HECTOR. [_Cheerily._] All right, my lass, I'm off. By-bye, Walter--keep the
old woman company for a bit. Good-bye, sweetheart. [_He kisses her._]
Don't wait up. Now for the drama. Oh, the dog's life!

[_He goes._ BETTY _waits till the hall door has banged, then she
sits on the elbow of_ WALTER'S _chair, and rests her head on his
shoulder._

BETTY. [_Softly._] Poor Hector!

WALTER. [_Uncomfortably._] ... Yes ...

BETTY. Doesn't it make you feel dreadful when he talks like that? [_She
kisses him; then puts her arms round his neck, draws his face to her, and
kisses him again, on the cheek._] Doesn't it?

[_She nestles contentedly closer to him._

WALTER. [_Trying to edge away._] Well, it does. Yes.

BETTY. [_Dreamily._] I--like it.

WALTER. Betty!

BETTY. Yes, I like it. I don't know why. I suppose I'm frightfully wicked.
Or the danger perhaps--I don't know.

WALTER. [_Making a futile effort to get up._] Betty--