martha. Well, I don't want to be uncharitable; but I do wish—I must say it—I do wish Laura had been cremated.
(This is the nearest she can do for wishing her sister in the place to which she thinks she belongs. But the uncremated Mrs. James now re-enters in widow's cap.)
laura. Julia, have you ever seen Papa, since you came here?
julia (frigidly). No, I have not.
laura. Has our Mother seen him?
julia. I haven't—— (About to say the forbidden thing, she checks herself.) Mamma has not seen him: nor does she know his whereabouts.
laura. Does nobody know?
julia. Nobody that I know of.
laura. Well, but he must be somewhere. Is there no way of finding him?
julia. Perhaps you can devise one. I suppose, if we chose, we could go to him; but I'm not sure—as he doesn't come to us.