SIMON. You are a droll one. Always just when I think I know you at last I have to begin at the beginning again. MARY ROSE (_suddenly_). Simon, if one of us had to--to go--and we could choose which one---- SIMON (_sighing_). She’s off again. MARY ROSE. Well, but if--I wonder which would be best. I mean for Harry, of course. SIMON. Oh, I should have to hop it. MARY ROSE. Dear! SIMON. Oh, I haven’t popped off yet. Steady, you nearly knocked over the pickles. (_He regards her curiously._) If I did go, I know your first thought would be ‘The happiness of Harry must not be interfered with for a moment.’ You would blot me out for ever, Mary Rose, rather than he should lose one of his hundred laughs a day. (_She hides her face._) It’s true, isn’t it? MARY ROSE. It is true, at any rate, that if I was the one to go, that is what I should like you to do. SIMON. Get off the table-cloth. (_Her mouth opens._) Don’t step on the marmalade. MARY ROSE (_gloriously_). Simon, isn’t life lovely! I am so happy, happy, happy. Aren’t you? SIMON. Rather. MARY ROSE. But you can tie up marmalade. Why don’t you scream with happiness? One of us has got to scream. SIMON. Then I know which one it will be. Scream away, it will give Cameron the jumps. (_CAMERON draws in._) There you are, Cameron. We are still safe, you see. You can count us--two. CAMERON. I am ferry glad. SIMON. Here you are. (_Handing him the luncheon basket._) You needn’t tie the boat up. Stay there and I’ll stamp out the fire myself. CAMERON. As Mr. Blake pleases. SIMON. Ready, Mary Rose? MARY ROSE. I must say good-bye to my island first. Good-bye, old mossy seat, nice rowan. Good-bye, little island that likes too much to be visited. Perhaps I shall come back when I am an old lady with wrinkles, and you won’t know your Mary Rose. SIMON. I say, dear, do dry up. I can’t help listening to you when I ought to be getting this fire out. MARY ROSE. I won’t say another word. SIMON. Just as it seems to be out, sparks come again. Do you think if I were to get some stones----? (_He looks up and she signs that she has promised not to talk. They laugh to each other. He is then occupied for a little time in dumping wet stones from the loch upon the fire. CAMERON is in the boat with his Euripides. MARY ROSE is sitting demure but gay, holding her tongue with her fingers like a child._