JULIA. Oh, we've had our little tussles. But here you will find it much easier. You can vanish.
MARTHA. What do you mean?
JULIA. I mean—vanish. It takes the place of wings. One does it almost without knowing.
MARTHA. How do you do it?
JULIA. You just wish yourself elsewhere; and you come back when you like.
MARTHA. Have you ever done it?
JULIA (with a world of meaning). Not yet.
MARTHA. She won't like it. One doesn't belong to one's self, when she's about—nor does anything. I've had to hide my own things from her sometimes.
JULIA. I shouldn't wonder.
MARTHA. Do you remember the silver tea-pot?