julia (sentimentally). Oh, Laura, only think! So now we shall be all together again.
laura. Yes, I suppose we shall.
julia. It will be quite like old days.
laura (warningly, as she sits down again and prepares for narrative). Not quite, Julia. (She leans forward, and speaks with measured emphasis.) Martha's temper has got very queer! She never had a very good temper, as you know: and it's grown on her.
(A pause. Julia remains silent.)
I could tell you some things; but—— (Seeing herself unencouraged) oh, you'll find out soon enough! (Then, to stand right with herself) Julia, am I difficult to get on with?
julia. Oh well, we all have our little ways, Laura.
laura. But Martha: she's so rude! I can't introduce her to people! If anyone comes, she just runs away.
julia (changing the subject). D'you remember, Laura, that charming young girl we met at Mrs. Somervale's, the summer Uncle Fletcher stayed with us?
laura (snubbingly). I can't say I do.