ROBERT. [_Vivaciously._] Believe me, believe me. [_To Bertha._] Good afternoon, Mrs Rowan. BERTHA. [_Shaking hands, candidly._] I thank you, too. [_To Beatrice._] You won’t stay to tea, Miss Justice? BEATRICE. No, thank you. [_Takes leave of her._] I must go. Good afternoon. Goodbye, Archie [_going_]. ROBERT. _Addio_, Archibald. ARCHIE. _Addio_. ROBERT. Wait, Beatty. I shall accompany you. BEATRICE. [_Going out on the right with Bertha._] O, don’t trouble. ROBERT. [_Following her._] But I insist—as a cousin. [_Bertha, Beatrice and Robert go out by the door on the left. Richard stands irresolutely near the table. Archie closes the door leading to the hall and, coming over to him, plucks him by the sleeve._] ARCHIE. I say, pappie! RICHARD. [_Absently._] What is it? ARCHIE. I want to ask you a thing. RICHARD. [_Sitting on the end of the lounge, stares in front of him._] What is it? ARCHIE. Will you ask mamma to let me go out in the morning with the milkman? RICHARD. With the milkman? ARCHIE. Yes. In the milkcar. He says he will let me drive when we get on to the roads where there are no people. The horse is a very good beast. Can I go? RICHARD. Yes. ARCHIE. Ask mamma now can I go. Will you? RICHARD. [_Glances towards the door._] I will. ARCHIE. He said he will show me the cows he has in the field. Do you know how many cows he has? RICHARD. How many? ARCHIE. Eleven. Eight red and three white. But one is sick now. No, not sick. But it fell. RICHARD. Cows? ARCHIE. [_With a gesture._] Eh! Not bulls. Because bulls give no milk. Eleven cows. They must give a lot of milk. What makes a cow give milk? RICHARD. [_Takes his hand._] Who knows? Do you understand what it is to give a thing? ARCHIE. To give? Yes. RICHARD. While you have a thing it can be taken from you. ARCHIE. By robbers? No? RICHARD. But when you give it, you have given it. No robber can take it from you. [_He bends his head and presses his son’s hand against his cheek._] It is yours then for ever when you have given it. It will be yours always. That is to give. ARCHIE. But, pappie? RICHARD. Yes? ARCHIE. How could a robber rob a cow? Everyone would see him. In the night, perhaps. RICHARD. In the night, yes. ARCHIE. Are there robbers here like in Rome? RICHARD. There are poor people everywhere. ARCHIE. Have they revolvers? RICHARD. No. ARCHIE. Knives? Have they knives? RICHARD. [_Sternly._] Yes, yes. Knives and revolvers. ARCHIE. [_Disengages himself._] Ask mamma now. She is coming. RICHARD. [_Makes a movement to rise._] I will. ARCHIE. No, sit there, pappie. You wait and ask her when she comes back. I won’t be here. I’ll be in the garden. RICHARD. [_Sinking back again._] Yes. Go. ARCHIE. [_Kisses him swiftly._] Thanks. [_He runs out quickly by the door at the back leading into the garden. Bertha enters by the door on the left. She approaches the table and stands beside it, fingering the petals of the roses, looking at Richard._]