you above my insults, like himself? (She stops crying, and
recovers herself somewhat, looking at him with a scared
curiosity.) There: that's right. (Sympathetically.) You're better
now, aren't you? (He puts his hand encouragingly on her shoulder.
She instantly rises haughtily, and stares at him defiantly. He at
once drops into his usual sardonic tone.) Ah, that's better. You
are yourself again: so is Richard. Well, shall we go to tea like
a quiet respectable couple, and wait for your husband's return?

JUDITH (rather ashamed of herself). If you please. I--I am sorry
to have been so foolish. (She stoops to take up the plate of
toast from the fender.)

RICHARD. I am sorry, for your sake, that I am--what I am. Allow
me. (He takes the plate from her and goes with it to the table.)

JUDITH (following with the teapot). Will you sit down? (He sits
down at the end of the table nearest the press. There is a plate
and knife laid there. The other plate is laid near it; but Judith
stays at the opposite end of the table, next the fire, and takes
her place there, drawing the tray towards her.) Do you take
sugar?

RICHARD. No; but plenty of milk. Let me give you some toast. (He
puts some on the second plate, and hands it to her, with the
knife. The action shows quietly how well he knows that she has
avoided her usual place so as to be as far from him as possible.)

JUDITH (consciously). Thanks. (She gives him his tea.) Won't you
help yourself?