Don’t worry me to-night, Claude; my head’s aching so that I feel I could scream.
Claude.
[With the tenderest concern.] My poor child, why didn’t you tell me? I’m so sorry I’ve been bothering you. Is it very bad?
Grace.
What a beast I am! How can you like me when I’m so absolutely horrid to you?
Claude.
My darling, I don’t blame you for having a headache.
Grace.
I’m sorry I was beastly to you just now.
Claude.