Jean—Should I be there?
Angelica—Oh, yes, you would be there but (with just a little touch of coquetry) I should not pay much attention to you. (Seriously) I should be so busy looking around at all the beautiful opal-colored things. Now for myself I would have a skirt of red and a sacque of blue and the walls of my hut should be covered with red and purple all swaying and melting as in the ring, and I would have the shades that sweep from color to color, the softest for my ceiling and beneath my feet the richest and warmest. Thus should my world have been, had I made the world!
Jean—Do not worry your mind with these visions and wonderings, dearest Angelica. You will become so excited you will be ill, dear.
Angelica—Oh no, I shall not be ill, I shall be well! It makes me almost believe that there is such a world above when I think of how well I could be if I were in it. For, why did I have eyes that long for light, light, more light, if I was never to have more light?
Jean—Dear Angelica! (soothingly.)
Angelica—No, no, do not speak against it! I know there is a world above. I know it. I feel it. O, let us go there! Let us go up through this flue and find it!
Jean—Why, Angelica, if there had been such a thing, your mother would have told you and old Jacques would surely have known about it.
Angelica—Then I shall ask mother,—and now! For I feel that I cannot wait; I must know. I shall ask mother; I shall make her tell.
Jean—And shall I go and ask old Jacques?
Angelica—Do you do so, and come to tell me again. Come here in an hour, here to the Bridge. Good bye, Jean! Good bye! We must find The World Above!