OLLIVANT. [Turning slowly to her in surprise.] You knew and have kept it from me?
EMILY. [Calmly, as she puts down the hat she has been trimming.] I found I hadn't lost my old skill, though it's been a good many years since I held a brush—since before we were married, George. I had an idea I thought would sell: paper dolls with little hand-painted dresses on separate sheets; they were so much softer than the printed kind, and children like anything soft. I wrote to Mr. Aylwin—you remember—he was so kind to me years before. He had called here once before when you were away and asked after my work. He used to think I had such promise. He found an opportunity to use the dolls as a specialty, and when I explained he induced some other firms to use all I can paint, too. They pay me very well. I made enough each month to help Mary when she went behind.
OLLIVANT. [Incredulously.] You! After you heard me say when she left I wouldn't give her a cent?
EMILY. [Looking fondly at Mary.] You were keeping Ben, weren't you?
OLLIVANT. But—that's—that's different.
EMILY. I didn't see why we shouldn't help both our children.
OLLIVANT. [Perplexed by this he turns to Mary.] And you took it?
MARY. Yes.
OLLIVANT. You knew how she got the money?
MARY. Yes.