your pocket when you met me.

GREGORY. Surely that's quite clear. I--

MRS. JUNO. No: please don't explain. I don't want to know. I take
your word for it. Besides, it doesn't matter now. Our voyage is
over; and to-morrow I start for the north to my poor father's
place.

GREGORY [surprised]. Your poor father! I thought he was alive.

MRS. JUNO. So he is. What made you think he wasn't?

GREGORY. You said your POOR father.

MRS. JUNO. Oh, that's a trick of mine. Rather a silly trick, I
Suppose; but there's something pathetic to me about men: I find
myself calling them poor So-and-So when there's nothing whatever
the matter with them.

GREGORY [who has listened in growing alarm]. But--I--is?--
wa--? Oh, Lord!

MRS. JUNO. What's the matter?

GREGORY. Nothing.

MRS. JUNO. Nothing! [Rising anxiously]. Nonsense: you're ill.

GREGORY. No. It was something about your late husband--