ADELAIDE: (voice coming up) Dear—dear, why do they make such twisting steps.
HARRY: Take your time, most up now. (HARRY's head appears, he looks back.) Making it all right?
ADELAIDE: I can't tell yet. (laughingly) No, I don't think so.
HARRY: (reaching back a hand for her) The last lap—is the bad lap. (ADELAIDE is up, and occupied with getting her breath.)
HARRY: Since you wouldn't come down, Claire, we thought we'd come up.
ADELAIDE: (as CLAIRE does not greet her) I'm sorry to intrude, but I have to see you, Claire. There are things to be arranged. (CLAIRE volunteering nothing about arrangements, ADELAIDE surveys the tower. An unsympathetic eye goes from the curves to the lines which diverge. Then she looks from the window) Well, at least you have a view.
HARRY: This is the first time you've been up here?
ADELAIDE: Yes, in the five years you've had the house I was never asked up here before.
CLAIRE: (amiably enough) You weren't asked up here now.
ADELAIDE: Harry asked me.