julia (shaking her head wisely). William won't live with her; he knows better.
martha. Who will live with her, then? She's bound to get hold of somebody.
julia. Apparently she means to live here.
martha. Then it's going to be me! I know it's going to be me! When we lived here before, it used to be poor Mamma.
julia. The dear Mother is quite capable of looking after herself, you'll find. You needn't belong to Laura if you don't like, Martha. I never let her take possession of me.
martha. She seems never to want to. I don't know how you manage it.
julia. Oh, we've had our little tussles. But here you will find it much easier. You can vanish.
julia. I mean—vanish. It takes the place of wings. One does it almost without knowing.
martha. How do you do it?