not.

GLORIA. I mean an unwritten one. Perhaps I shall write it for you--
-when I know the end of it. (She goes back to the window.)

MRS. CLANDON. Gloria! More enigmas!

GLORIA. Oh, no. The same enigma.

MRS. CLANDON (puzzled and rather troubled; after watching her for a
moment). My dear.

GLORIA (returning). Yes.

MRS. CLANDON. You know I never ask questions.

GLORIA (kneeling beside her chair). I know, I know. (She suddenly
throws her arms about her mother and embraces her almost passionately.)

MRS. CLANDON. (gently, smiling but embarrassed). My dear: you are
getting quite sentimental

GLORIA (recoiling). Ah, no, no. Oh, don't say that. Oh! (She
rises and turns away with a gesture as if tearing herself.)

MRS. CLANDON (mildly). My dear: what is the matter? What--- (The
waiter enters with the tea tray.)

WAITER (balmily). This was what you rang for, ma'am, I hope?