MELISANDE (looking across warningly at her). Jane---- JANE (awkwardly). I'm afraid, Uncle Henry, that Melisande and I--I promised Sandy--we---- MR. KNOWLE (putting her arm firmly through his). Nonsense. I'm not going to have my niece taken away from me, when she is only staying with us for such a short time. Besides I insist upon being introduced to Titania. I want to complain about the rings on the tennis-lawn. They must dance somewhere else. JANE (looking anxiously at MELISANDE). You see, Uncle Henry, I'm not feeling very---- MELISANDE (resigned) All right, Jane. JANE (brightly). All right, Uncle Henry. MR. KNOWLE (very brightly). It's all right, Bobby. JANE. Come along! (They go to the open windows together.) MR. KNOWLE (as they go). Any message for Oberon, if we meet him? MELISANDE (gravely). No, thank you, Father. MR. KNOWLE. It's his turn to write, I suppose. (JANE laughs as they go out together.) (Left alone, MELISANDE takes up a book and goes to the sofa with it, while BOBBY walks about the room unhappily, whistling to himself. He keeps looking across at her, and at last their eyes meet.) MELISANDE (putting down her book). Well, Bobby? BOBBY (awkwardly). Well, Sandy? MELISANDE (angrily). Don't call me that; you know how I hate it. BOBBY. Sorry. Melisande. But it's such a dashed mouthful. And your father was calling you Sandy just now, and you didn't say anything. MELISANDE. One cannot always control one's parents. There comes a time when it is almost useless to say things to them. BOBBY (eagerly). I never mind your saying things to _me_, Sandy--I mean, Melisande. I never shall mind, really I shan't. Of course, I know I'm not worthy of you, and all that, but--I say, Melisande, isn't there _any_ hope? MELISANDE. Bobby, I asked you not to talk to me like that again. BOBBY (coming to her). I know you did, but I must. I can't believe that you-- MELISANDE. I told you that, if you promised not to talk like that again, then I wouldn't tell anybody anything about it, so that it shouldn't be awkward for you. And I haven't told anybody, not even Jane, to whom I tell all my secrets. Most men, when they propose to a girl, and she refuses them, have to go right out of the country and shoot lions; it's the only thing left for them to do. But I did try and make it easy for _you_, Bobby. (Sadly) And now you're beginning all over again. BOBBY (awkwardly). I though perhaps you might have changed your mind. Lots of girls do. MELISANDE (contemptuously). Lots of girls! Is that how you think of me? BOBBY. Well, your mother said--(He breaks off hurriedly.) MELISANDE (coldly). Have you been discussing me with my mother? BOBBY. I say, Sandy, don't be angry. Sorry; I mean Melisande. MELISANDE. Don't apologise. Go on. BOBBY. Well, I didn't _discuss_ you with your mother. She just happened to say that girls never knew their own minds, and that they always said "No" the first time, and that I needn't be downhearted, because--