SARAH. No. . it's a horrible marriage.

CARNABY. He's losing refinement . . mark me . . he no longer polishes his nails.

SARAH. But there are the children now.

CARNABY. You never have wanted children.

SARAH. I don't want a little child.

CARNABY. She to be Lady Leete . . someday . . soon! What has he done for his family?

SARAH. I'll come with you. You are clever, Papa. And I know just what to say to Charles.

CARNABY. [_With a curious change of tone._] If you study anatomy you'll find that the brain, as it works, pressing forward the eyes . . thought is painful. Never be defeated. Chapter the latest . . the tickling of the Carp. And my throat is dry . . shall I drink that water?

SARAH. No, I wouldn't.

CARNABY. Not out of my hand?

ANN. [_Speaking in a strange quiet voice, after her long silence._] I will not come to Brighton with you.

CARNABY. Very dry!

ANN. You must go back, Sally.

CARNABY. [_As he looks at her, standing stiffly._] Now what is Ann's height . . five feet . . ?

ANN. Sally must go back, for she belongs to it . . but I'll stay here where I belong.

CARNABY. You've spoken three times and the words are jumbling in at my ears meaninglessly. I certainly took too much wine at dinner . . or else. . . Yes . . Sally goes back. . and you'll go forward. Who stays here? Don't burlesque your sister. What's in the air . . what disease is this?

ANN. I mean to disobey you . . to stay here . . never to be unhappy.

CARNABY. So pleased!

ANN. I want to be an ordinary woman . . not clever . . not fortunate.

CARNABY. I can't hear.

ANN. Not clever. I don't believe in you, Papa.

CARNABY. I exist . . I'm very sorry.

ANN. I won't be married to any man. I refuse to be tempted . . I won't see him again.

CARNABY. Yes. It's raining.

SARAH. Raining!

CARNABY. Don't you stop it raining.

ANN. [_In the same level tones, to her sister now, who otherwise would turn, alarmed, to their father._] And I curse you . . because, we being sisters, I suppose I am much what you were, about to be married; and I think, Sally, you'd have cursed your present self. I could become all that you are and more . . but I don't choose.

SARAH. Ann, what is to become of you?

CARNABY. Big drops . . big drops!

_At this moment_ ABUD _is pa.s.sing towards the house, his work finished_.

ANN. John Abud . . you mean to marry. When you marry . . will you marry me?

_A blank silence, into which breaks_ CARNABY'S _sick voice_.

CARNABY. Take me indoors. I heard you ask the gardener to marry you.

ANN. I asked him.

CARNABY. I heard you say that you asked him. Take me in . . but not out of the rain.

ANN. Look . . he's straight-limbed and clear eyed . . and I'm a woman.

SARAH. Ann, are you mad?

ANN. If we two were alone here in this garden and everyone else in the world were dead . . what would you answer?

ABUD. [_Still amazed._] Why . . yes.

CARNABY. Then that's settled . . pellucid.

_He attempts to rise, but staggers backwards and forwards._ SARAH _goes to him alarmed_.

SARAH. Papa! . . there's no rain yet.

CARNABY. Hush, I'm dead.

ANN. [_Her nerves failing her._] Oh . . oh . . oh . . !

SARAH. Abud, don't ever speak of this.

ABUD. No, my lady.

ANN. [_With a final effort._] I mean it all. Wait three months.

CARNABY. Help me up steps . . son-in-law.

CARNABY _has started to grope his way indoors. But he reels and falls helpless._

ABUD. I'll carry him.