] And, with Sybil on the spot, John, to
help you and inspire you, what a speech it will be!
JOHN [carried away]. Maggie, you really are a very generous woman.
SYBIL [convinced at last]. She is indeed.
JOHN. And you're queer too. How many women in the circumstances would
sit down to write a letter?
MAGGIE. It's a letter to you, John.
JOHN. To me?
MAGGIE. I'll give it to you when it's finished, but I ask you not to
open it till your visit to the Comtesse ends.
JOHN. What is it about?
MAGGIE. It's practical.
SYBIL [rather faintly]. Practical? [She has heard the word so
frequently to-day that it is beginning to have a Scotch sound. She
feels she ought to like MAGGIE, but that she would like her better if
they were farther apart. She indicates that the doctors are troubled
about her heart, and murmuring her adieux she goes. JOHN, who is
accompanying her, pauses at the door.]
JOHN [with a queer sort of admiration for his wife]. Maggie, I wish I
was fond of you.
MAGGIE [heartily]. I wish you were, John.
[He goes, and she resumes her letter. The stocking is lying at hand,
and she pushes it to the floor. She is done for a time with
knitting.]
ACT IV
[Man's most pleasant invention is the lawn-mower. All the birds know
this, and that is why, when it is at rest, there is always at least
one of them sitting on the handle with his head cocked, wondering how
the delicious whirring sound is made.
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