LAURA (facing about after vain search). Does she think that is the proper way to behave to me? Julia!
MARTHA. It's no good, Laura. You know Julia, as well as I do. If she makes up her mind to a thing—
LAURA. Yes. She's been waiting here to exercise her patience on me, and now she's happy! Well, she'll have to learn that this house doesn't belong to her any longer. She has got to accommodate herself to living with others…. I wonder how she'd like me to go and sit in that pet chair of hers?
JULIA (softly reappearing in the chair which the 'dear Mother' usually occupies). You can go and sit in it if you wish, Laura.
LAURA (ignoring her return). Martha, do you remember that odious man who used to live next door, who played the 'cello on Sundays?
MARTHA. Oh yes, I remember. They used to hang out washing in the garden, didn't they?
LAURA (very scandalously). Julia is friends with him! They call on each other. His wife doesn't live with him any longer.
(Julia rises and goes slowly and majestically out of the room.)
LAURA (after relishing what she conceives to be her rout of the enemy). Martha, what do you think of Julia?
MARTHA. Oh, she's—What do you want me to think?