MRS. P. She’s not well?
EDWIN. No, she’s not very well. In fact she’s so ill that she has to keep her room.
MRS. P. Oh dear, I’m sorry to hear that. I fear, then, I shan’t see her.
EDWIN. I’m afraid you won’t—(aside) considering she’s been dead this twenty years.
MRS. P. But you’re not quite alone here, I perceive. I met Miss Darlington upon the stairs.
EDWIN. Yes, she is staying here.
MRS. P. Upon the look out for a husband, I suppose. How very plain she’s grown!
EDWIN. Plain?
MRS. P. Don’t you think so?