Go on, Joy, it'll do you good.
[Joy raises her clenched hand, but drops it, and hides her
face.]
Why don't you? I'm not pretending!
[Joy makes no sign.]
Come, joy; you'll make yourself ill, and that won't help, will it?
[But joy still makes no sign.]
[With determination.] What's the matter? now come--tell me!
JOY. [In a stifled, sullen voice.] Will you leave my mother alone?
MRS. GWYN. Oh! my dear Joy, don't be silly!
JOY. [Wincing; then with sudden passion.] I defy you--I defy you!
[She rushes from their sight.]
MRS. GWYN. [With a movement of distress.] Oh!
LEVER. [Turning to MRS. GWYN with a protecting gesture.] Never
mind, dear! It'll be--it'll be all right!
[But the expression of his face is not the expression of his
words.]
The curtain falls.
ACT III
It is evening; a full yellow moon is shining through the
branches of the hollow tree. The Chinese lanterns are alight.
There is dancing in the house; the music sounds now loud, now
soft. MISS BEECH is sitting on the rustic seat in a black
bunchy evening dress, whose inconspicuous opening is inlaid with
white.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158