On the Terrace.
Alan. To get right away from people, to take a drive together, and bathe our heads in the golden sunlight! In secret! Do—do let us, Mrs. Travers!
"Bathing her head in the golden sunlight."
Viola. It would be nice! Albert is going to town for the day, and the Averidges are going for an excursion.... But what could we drive in?
Alan. Oh, I will arrange that. I will hire a dog-cart in the village; and we must meet in a lane, or a field, or something. And you must say you have been to teach the orphan boy to sew or something. It would be too sweet!
Viola. But—Master Roy——
Alan. Don't call me Master Roy. Call me Alan—when no one is listening.
Viola. Alan—wouldn't it be much simpler, merely to say we were going for a drive, and to order the carriage?
Alan. Then where's your mystery?