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No.

Knives? Have they knives?

[Sternly.] Yes, yes. Knives and revolvers.

[Disengages himself.] Ask mamma now. She is coming.

[Makes a movement to rise.] I will.

No, sit there, pappie. You wait and ask her when she comes back. I won't be here. I'll be in the garden.

[Sinking back again.] Yes. Go.

[Kisses him swiftly.] Thanks.

[Watching her.] Well?

[Absently.] Well. He says he likes me.

[Leans his chin on his hand.] You showed him his note?