Grace.
My dear Claude, you talk as if I were a girl of eighteen.
Claude.
I don’t suppose you remember, but when Archibald told us, I wanted to say something to you....
Grace.
Yes, your first thought was for me, wasn’t it?
Claude.
[Going on.] And I came near you. And—and you sort of shuddered, and said: “For God’s sake, don’t touch me!”
Grace.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be unkind.