JUDITH (in a strained tone). Tony.

ANDERSON. Yes, dear?

JUDITH. Do you think we are only in a dream now?

ANDERSON (glancing round at her for a moment with a pang of
anxiety, though he goes on steadily and cheerfully putting fresh
tea into the pot). Perhaps so, pet. But you may as well dream a
cup of tea when you're about it.

JUDITH. Oh, stop, stop. You don't know-- (Distracted she buries
her face in her knotted hands.)

ANDERSON (breaking down and coming to her). My dear, what is it?
I can't bear it any longer: you must tell me. It was all my
fault: I was mad to trust him.

JUDITH. No: don't say that. You mustn't say that. He--oh no, no:
I can't. Tony: don't speak to me. Take my hands--both my hands.
(He takes them, wondering.) Make me think of you, not of him.
There's danger, frightful danger; but it is your danger; and I
can't keep thinking of it: I can't, I can't: my mind goes back to
his danger. He must be saved--no: you must be saved: you, you,
you. (She springs up as if to do something or go somewhere,
exclaiming) Oh, Heaven help me!

ANDERSON (keeping his seat and holding her hands with resolute
composure). Calmly, calmly, my pet. You're quite distracted.