FORESTER.
Don't wake up Mary! Wasn't there some one at the window?
SOPHY.
That is the old rose-bush outside, which is always nodding so anxiously and knocking at the window, as if it had to prevent a catastrophe, and nobody paid any attention to it.
[Pause; aside.]
It is so still. I must keep on talking, otherwise he can hear me breathing, and will notice my anxiety—and also that he may not hear Mary when she climbs in at the window.
[Listening repeatedly.]
The whole evening I have been thinking about it. Only yesterday Robert said to me—
FORESTER.
Always Robert—