[Her mouth quivers, her face puckers, she gives a choke and a little sob.] WELLWYN. [Stopping and stroking her.] There, there--there! [For a moment her face is buried in his sleeve, then she recovers herself.] MRS. MEGAN. Then 'e got hold o' me, an' pulled me out. WELLWYN. Ah! what a comfort--um? MRS. MEGAN. Yes. The water got into me mouth. [They walk again.] I wouldn't have gone to do it but for him. [She looks towards FERRAND.] His talk made me feel all funny, as if people wanted me to. WELLWYN. My dear child! Don't think such things! As if anyone would----! MRS. MEGAN. [Stolidly.] I thought they did. They used to look at me so sometimes, where I was before I ran away--I couldn't stop there, you know. WELLWYN. Too cooped-up? MRS. MEGAN. Yes. No life at all, it wasn't--not after sellin' flowers, I'd rather be doin' what I am. WELLWYN. Ah! Well-it's all over, now! How d'you feel--eh? Better? MRS. MEGAN. Yes. I feels all right now. [She sits up again on the little stool before the fire.] WELLWYN. No shivers, and no aches; quite comfy? MRS. MEGAN. Yes. WELLWYN. That's a blessing. All well, now, Constable--thank you! CONSTABLE. [Who has remained discreetly apart at the door-cordially.] First rate, sir! That's capital! [He approaches and scrutinises MRS. MEGAN.] Right as rain, eh, my girl? MRS. MEGAN. [Shrinking a little.] Yes. CONSTABLE. That's fine. Then I think perhaps, for 'er sake, sir, the sooner we move on and get her a change o' clothin', the better. WELLWYN. Oh! don't bother about that--I'll send round for my daughter--we'll manage for her here. CONSTABLE. Very kind of you, I'm sure, sir. But [with embarrassment] she seems all right. She'll get every attention at the station. WELLWYN. But I assure you, we don't mind at all; we'll take the greatest care of her. CONSTABLE. [Still more embarrassed.] Well, sir, of course, I'm thinkin' of--I'm afraid I can't depart from the usual course. WELLWYN. [Sharply.] What! But-oh! No! No! That'll be all right, Constable! That'll be all right! I assure you. CONSTABLE. [With more decision.] I'll have to charge her, sir. WELLWYN. Good God! You don't mean to say the poor little thing has got to be---- CONSTABLE. [Consulting with him.] Well, sir, we can't get over the facts, can we? There it is! You know what sooicide amounts to-- it's an awkward job. WELLWYN. [Calming himself with an effort.] But look here, Constable, as a reasonable man--This poor wretched little girl--you know what that life means better than anyone! Why! It's to her credit to try and jump out of it! [The CONSTABLE shakes his head.]