VOICE. They've cut it off. What a shame!
CAPT. G. It must have been to make your head cooler.
VOICE. 'Just like a boy's wig. Don't I look horrid?
CAPT. G. Never looked prettier in your life, dear. (Aside.) How am I to ask her to say good-bye?
VOICE. I don't feel pretty. I feel very ill. My heart won't work. It's nearly dead inside me, and there's a funny feeling in my eyes. Everything seems the same distance—you and the almirah and the table—inside my eyes or miles away. What does it mean, Pip?
CAPT. G. You're a little feverish, Sweetheart—very feverish. (Breaking down.) My love! my love! How can I let you go?
VOICE. I thought so. Why didn't you tell me that at first?
CAPT. G. What?
VOICE. That I am going to—die.
CAPT. G. But you aren't! You shan't.