Dean and Mrs. O’Farrel.
The water?
Lady Patricia.
For the snowdrop.
(The Dean coughs. Mrs. O’Farrel solemnly scrutinises Patricia through her lorgnette.)
Mrs. O’Farrel.
Doesn’t it occur to you that was rather funny?
Lady Patricia.
Funny? No, oh no! I see a certain ironical humour in such banal intervention. But it’s far too mysterious to be called funny. After that I struggled no more against the stream. I drifted; I was carried down the great ocean of love. But I never once faltered in my high resolve to keep that ocean pure, and——
Mrs. O’Farrel.