LAURA. Julia, are we not to discuss this matter, pray?
(Julia, who has her eye on Martha, and is quite enjoying this tussle of the two, says nothing)
MARTHA. You and Julia can discuss it. I am going downstairs.
(Mrs. James crosses the room, locks the door, and, standing mistress of all she surveys, inquires with grim humour.)
LAURA. And where are you going to be, Julia?
JULIA. I am where I am, Laura. I'm not going out of the window, or up the chimney, if that's what you mean.
(She continues gracefully to do her crochet.)
LAURA. Now, Martha, if you please.
MARTHA (goaded into victory). I'm sorry, Julia. You'd better explain. I'm going downstairs.
(Suiting the action to the word, she commits herself doggedly to the experiment, descending bluntly and without grace through the carpet into the room below. Mrs. James stands stupent.)