JULIA. Your share and mine.

LAURA. How did you get mine here?

JULIA. You brought them. At least, they _came_, a little before you
did. Then I knew you were on your way.

LAURA (_impressed)._ Lor'! So that's how things happen?

(_She goes and begins to take a look round, and Julia takes up her
crochet again. As she does so her eye is arrested by a little
old-fashioned hour-glass standing upon the table from which the tea-tray
has been taken, the sands of which are still running_.)

JULIA (_softly, almost to herself_). Oh, but how strange! That was
Martha's. Is Martha coming too? (_She picks up the glass, looks at it,
and sets it down again_)

LAURA (_who is examining the china on a side-table)._ Why, I declare,
Julia! Here is your Dresden that was broken--without a crack in it!

JULIA. No, Laura, it was yours that was broken.

LAURA. It was _not_ mine; it was yours...Don't you remember _I_
broke it?

JULIA. When you broke it you said it was mine. Until you broke it, you
said it was yours.