Mrs. Megan.  Then ‘e got hold o’ me, an’ pulled me out.

Wellwyn.  Ah! what a comfort—­um?

Mrs. Megan.  Yes.  The water got into me mouth.

     [They walk again.] I wouldn’t have gone to do it but for him.
     [She looks towards Ferrand.] His talk made me feel all funny,
     as if people wanted me to.

Wellwyn.  My dear child!  Don’t think such things!  As if anyone would——!

Mrs. Megan. [Stolidly.] I thought they did.  They used to look at me so sometimes, where I was before I ran away—­I couldn’t stop there, you know.

Wellwyn.  Too cooped-up?

Mrs. Megan.  Yes.  No life at all, it wasn’t—­not after sellin’ flowers, I’d rather be doin’ what I am.

Wellwyn.  Ah!  Well-it’s all over, now!  How d’you feel—­eh?  Better?

Mrs. Megan.  Yes.  I feels all right now.

     [She sits up again on the little stool before the fire.]

Wellwyn.  No shivers, and no aches; quite comfy?

Mrs. Megan.  Yes.

Wellwyn.  That’s a blessing.  All well, now, Constable—­thank you!

Constable. [Who has remained discreetly apart at the door-cordially.] First rate, sir!  That’s capital! [He approaches and scrutinises Mrs. Megan.] Right as rain, eh, my girl?

Mrs. Megan. [Shrinking a little.] Yes.

Constable.  That’s fine.  Then I think perhaps, for ’er sake, sir, the sooner we move on and get her a change o’ clothin’, the better.

Wellwyn.  Oh! don’t bother about that—­I’ll send round for my daughter—­we’ll manage for her here.

Constable.  Very kind of you, I’m sure, sir.  But [with embarrassment] she seems all right.  She’ll get every attention at the station.

Wellwyn.  But I assure you, we don’t mind at all; we’ll take the greatest care of her.

Constable. [Still more embarrassed.] Well, sir, of course, I’m thinkin’ of—­I’m afraid I can’t depart from the usual course.

Wellwyn. [Sharply.] What!  But-oh!  No!  No!  That’ll be all right, Constable!  That’ll be all right!  I assure you.

Constable. [With more decision.] I’ll have to charge her, sir.

Wellwyn.  Good God!  You don’t mean to say the poor little thing has got to be——­

Constable. [Consulting with him.] Well, sir, we can’t get over the facts, can we?  There it is!  You know what sooicide amounts to—­ it’s an awkward job.

Wellwyn. [Calming himself with an effort.] But look here, Constable, as a reasonable man—­This poor wretched little girl—­you know what that life means better than anyone!  Why!  It’s to her credit to try and jump out of it!