Lady Patricia.
(Coldly.) Clare?
Michael.
Er—Miss Lesley?
Lady Patricia.
Yes.
Michael.
Oh, Patricia, how can you think such a thing! Our friendship is like the friendship of two men or two women, the elder tenderly guiding the younger towards a higher, saner, nobler, larger view of life. (He glances apprehensively at the tree.)
Lady Patricia.
Exquisite! Ideal! But haven’t you noticed, Michael, that the child no longer accepts your companionship with the same frank pleasure as before? I have watched her lately. It seems to me as though she were always trying to avoid you.