THE GIRL. [A pretty, indeterminate young woman] Six months. [She
sobs suddenly.]

HELEN. Ah! He'll soon be safe back.

WREFORD. I'll owe 'em for this. [In a lacy voice to her] Don't 'ee
now! Don't 'ee!

HELEN. No! Don't cry, please!

She stands struggling with her own lips, then goes out on to the
terrace, HUBERT following. WREFORD and his girl remain where
they were, strange and awkward, she muffling her sobs.

WREFORD. Don't 'ee go on like that, Nance; I'll 'ave to take you
'ome. That's silly, now we've a-come. I might be dead and buried by
the fuss you're makin'. You've a-drove the lady away. See!

She regains control of herself as the door is opened and
KATHERINE appears, accompanied by OLIVE, who regards WREFORD
with awe and curiosity, and by NURSE, whose eyes are red, but
whose manner is composed.

KATHERINE. My brother told me; so glad you've brought her.

WREFORD. Ye--as, M'. She feels me goin', a bit.

KATHERINE. Yes, yes! Still, it's for the country, isn't it?