. . . Henry. . . . How often they strolled together in this garden!
Beatrice—Talking about their children.
Albert—They both were devoted fathers. They dedicated their lives to the welfare of their children.
Beatrice—They never tired of discussing their children, you know. Always the children. The future of the children. What would become of them. How to direct them in the right path. [Turns, chair and all, toward Albert; speaks with emphasis.] How some day the children would rear a family of their own.
Albert—[To Hyacinth.] Sometimes at night I lean out of my window and fancy I see the two old men walking arm in arm along the path between those banks of beautiful roses
Beatrice—[Edging her chair nearer Albert.] They are Alexandra's roses. [A pause.]
Albert—How? Your roses?
Alexandra—Mine, yes.
Albert—Did you plant them?
Alexandra—Only some of them. But I tend them. [A pause.]
Albert—And . . . does that amuse you?
Alexandra—Oh, yes. [A pause.]
Albert—And . . . don't you ever prick yourself?
Alexandra—Sometimes. [A pause.]
