The Father. Shall we go on to the terrace, or stay in this room?
The Uncle. Would it not be better to stay here? It has rained the whole week, and the nights are damp and cold.
The Eldest Daughter. Still the stars are shining.
The Uncle. Ah! stars—that's nothing.
The Grandfather. We had better stay here. One never knows what may happen.
The Father. There is no longer any cause for anxiety. The danger is past, and she is saved....
The Grandfather. I fancy she is not going on well....
The Father. Why do you say that?
The Grandfather. I have heard her speak.
The Father. But the doctors assure us we may be easy....