LATIMER (_lazily_). It is just the same. It will always be the same. It is unthinkable that anything different should ever happen. In a hundred years’ time we shall still be like this. You will be a little tired, perhaps; your fingers will ache; but I shall be lying here, quite, quite happy. ANNE. You shall have another minute—no more. LATIMER. Then I shall go straight to the chemist and ask for three pennyworth of Anne’s fingers. (_They are silent for a little. Then she stops and listens._) What is it? ANNE. I heard something. Whispers. LATIMER. Don’t look round. (_LEONARD and NICHOLAS, in hats and coats, creep cautiously in. Very noiselessly, fingers to lips, they open the front door and creep out._) ANNE. What was it? Was it—— LATIMER. An episode in your life. Over, buried, forgotten.... ANNE (_pleadingly_). It never really happened, did it? LATIMER. Of course not! We must have read about it somewhere—or was it in a play? ANNE (_eagerly_). That was it! We were in a box together. LATIMER. Munching chocolates. (_With a sigh_) What a child she was—that girl in the play—with her little, funny, grown-up airs! (_DOMINIC comes in, and stops suddenly on seeing them._) DOMINIC. Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. LATIMER. Go on, Anne. (_Happily_) I am having neuralgia, Dominic. DOMINIC. Yes, sir. A stubborn complaint, as I have heard, sir. LATIMER. Miss Anne is making me well.... What did you want? DOMINIC. Her ladyship says will you please excuse her if she is not down to-night. LATIMER (_to ANNE_). Shall we excuse her if she is not down to-night? DOMINIC. The fact is, sir, that Joseph is taken ill suddenly, and—— LATIMER (_to himself_). I never thought of Joseph! ANNE. Oh, poor Joseph! What is it? DOMINIC. A trifling affection of the throat, but necessitating careful attention, her ladyship says. LATIMER. Please tell her ladyship how very much I thank her for looking after Joseph ... and tell Joseph how very sorry I am for him. DOMINIC. Yes, sir. [_He goes out._ LATIMER. You can’t go now, Anne. You will have to stay and chaperone Eustasia and me. (_She laughs and shakes her head._) Must you go? ANNE. Yes. LATIMER. Back to your father? ANNE. Yes. (_He looks at her. She is so very pretty; so brave._) LATIMER (_it must be somebody else speaking—he hardly recognises the voice_). Let us say good-bye now. There is a magic in your fingers which goes to my head, and makes me think ridiculous things. Let us say good-bye now. ANNE (_taking his hand_). Good-bye! (_Impulsively_) I wish _you_ had been my father. (_Then she goes out. And she has won, after all. For MR. LATIMER stands there dumb, wondering what has happened. He walks across to a mirror to have a look at himself. While he is there, DOMINIC comes in to superintend the laying of the table._) LATIMER (_at the mirror_). Dominic, how old would you say I was? DOMINIC. More than that, sir.