Mrs. Gwyn. [Scornfully.] She!  It’s only Joy I care about.

Lever. [Frowning.] We must be more careful, that’s all.  We mustn’t give ourselves away again, as we were doing just now.

Mrs. Gwyn.  When any one says anything horrid to you, I can’t help it.

     [She puts her hand on the label of his coat.]

Lever.  My dear child, take care!

     [Mrs. Gwyn drops her hand.  She throws her head back, and her
     throat is seen to work as though she were gulping down a bitter
     draught.  She moves away.]

[Following hastily.] Don’t dear, don’t!  I only meant—­Come, Molly, let’s be sensible.  I want to tell you something about the mine.

Mrs. Gwyn. [With a quavering smile.] Yes-let ’s talk sensibly, and walk properly in this sensible, proper place.

[Lever is seen trying to soothe her, and yet to walk properly.  As they disappear, they are viewed by joy, who, like the shadow parted from its figure, has come to join it again.  She stands now, foiled, a carnation in her hand; then flings herself on a chair, and leans her elbows on the table.]

Joy.  I hate him!  Pig!

Rose. [Who has come to clear the tea things.] Did you call, Miss?

Joy.  Not you!

Rose. [Motionless.] No, Miss!

Joy. [Leaning back and tearing the flower.] Oh! do hurry up, Rose!

Rose. [Collects the tea things.] Mr. Dick’s coming down the path! 
Aren’t I going to get you to do your frock, Miss Joy?

Joy.  No.

Rose.  What will the Missis say?

Joy.  Oh, don’t be so stuck, Rose!

     [Rose goes, but Dick has come.]

Dick.  Come on the river, Joy, just for half an hour, as far as the kingfishers—­do! [Joy shakes her head.] Why not?  It ’ll be so jolly and cool.  I’m most awfully sorry if I worried you this morning.  I didn’t mean to.  I won’t again, I promise. [Joy slides a look at him, and from that look he gains a little courage.] Do come!  It’ll be the last time.  I feel it awfully, Joy.

Joy.  There’s nothing to hurt you!

Dick. [Gloomily.] Isn’t there—­when you’re like this?

Joy. [In a hard voice.] If you don’t like me, why do you follow me about?

Dick.  What is the matter?

Joy. [Looking up, as if for want of air.] Oh!  Don’t!

Dick.  Oh, Joy, what is the matter?  Is it the heat?

Joy. [With a little laugh.] Yes.

Dick.  Have some Eau de Cologne.  I ’ll make you a bandage. [He takes the Eau de Cologne, and makes a bandage with his handkerchief.] It’s quite clean.

Joy.  Oh, Dick, you are so funny!