BERTHA. Did you not enjoy yourself down there, Miss Justice? ROBERT. [_Intervenes._] She did not, Mrs Rowan. She goes there on retreat, when the protestant strain in her prevails—gloom, seriousness, righteousness. BEATRICE. I go to see my father. ROBERT. [_Continuing._] But she comes back here to my mother, you see. The piano influence is from our side of the house. BERTHA. [_Hesitating._] Well, Miss Justice, if you would like to play something... But please don’t fatigue yourself with Archie. ROBERT. [_Suavely._] Do, Beatty. That is what you want. BEATRICE. If Archie will come? ARCHIE. [_With a shrug._] To listen. BEATRICE. [_Takes his hand._] And a little lesson, too. Very short. BERTHA. Well, afterwards you must stay to tea. BEATRICE. [_To Archie._] Come. [_Beatrice and Archie go out together by the door on the left. Bertha goes towards the davenport, takes off her hat and lays it with her sunshade on the desk. Then taking a key from a little flowervase, she opens a drawer of the davenport, takes out a slip of paper and closes the drawer again. Robert stands watching her._] BERTHA. [_Coming towards him with the paper in her hand._] You put this into my hand last night. What does it mean? ROBERT. Do you not know? BERTHA. [_Reads._] _There is one word which I have never dared to say to you._ What is the word? ROBERT. That I have a deep liking for you. [_A short pause. The piano is heard faintly from the upper room._] ROBERT. [_Takes the bunch of roses from the chair._] I brought these for you. Will you take them from me? BERTHA. [_Taking them._] Thank you. [_She lays them on the table and unfolds the paper again._] Why did you not dare to say it last night? ROBERT. I could not speak to you or follow you. There were too many people on the lawn. I wanted you to think over it and so I put it into your hand when you were going away. BERTHA. Now you have dared to say it. ROBERT. [_Moves his hand slowly past his eyes._] You passed. The avenue was dim with dusky light. I could see the dark green masses of the trees. And you passed beyond them. You were like the moon. BERTHA. [_Laughs._] Why like the moon? ROBERT. In that dress, with your slim body, walking with little even steps. I saw the moon passing in the dusk till you passed and left my sight. BERTHA. Did you think of me last night? ROBERT. [_Comes nearer._] I think of you always—as something beautiful and distant—the moon or some deep music. BERTHA. [_Smiling._] And last night which was I? ROBERT. I was awake half the night. I could hear your voice. I could see your face in the dark. Your eyes... I want to speak to you. Will you listen to me? May I speak? BERTHA. [_Sitting down._] You may. ROBERT. [_Sitting beside her._] Are you annoyed with me? BERTHA. No. ROBERT. I thought you were. You put away my poor flowers so quickly. BERTHA. [_Takes them from the table and holds them close to her face._] Is this what you wish me to do with them?