I’ve found them. [Mary frowns in puzzlement, turning this over in her mind. There is a pause. Finally Robert turns to her tenderly.] Would you miss Dada very much if he went away?
Mary—Far—far away?
Robert—Yes. Far, far away.
Mary—And Mary wouldn’t see him, never?
Robert—No; but Mary’d forget him very soon, I’m sure.
Mary—[Tearfully.] No! No! Dada mustn’t go ’way. No, Dada, no!
Robert—Don’t you like Uncle Andy—the man that came yesterday—not the old man with the white moustache—the other?
Mary—But Dada mustn’t go ’way Mary loves Dada.
Robert—[With fierce determination.] He won’t go away, baby. He was only joking. He couldn’t leave his little Mary. [He presses the child in his arms.]
Mary—[With an exclamation of pain.] Oh! Dada hurts!
Robert—I’m sorry, little girl. [He lifts her down to the grass.] Go play with Dolly, that’s a good girl; and be careful to keep in the shade. [She reluctantly leaves him and takes up her doll again. A moment later she points down the hill to the left.]
Mary—Here comes mans, Dada.
Robert—[Looking that way.] It’s your Uncle Andy.
