he appears to
have gone below. (ANTHONY _closes the trap-door_) I did speak to
Anthony, but he says that Claire is working at one of her experiments
and that her daughter is finished. I don't know how to make her hear--I
took the revolver back to the house. Anyway you will remember Claire
doesn't answer the revolver. I hate to reach Claire when she doesn't
want to be reached. Why, of course--a daughter is very important, but
oh, that's too bad. (_putting down the receiver_) He says the girl's
feelings are hurt. Isn't that annoying? (_gingerly pounds on the
trap-door. Then with the other hand. Waits_. ANTHONY _has a gentle smile
for the gentle tapping--nods approval as,_ TOM _returns to the phone_)
She doesn't come up. Indeed I did--with both fists--Sorry.

ANTHONY: Please, you won't try again to disturb Miss Claire, will you?

DICK: Her daughter is here, Anthony. She hasn't seen her daughter for a
year.

ANTHONY: Well, if she got along without a mother for a year--(_goes back
to his work_)

DICK: (_smiling after_ ANTHONY) Plants are queer. Perhaps it's _safer_
to do it with pencil (_regards_ TOM)--or with pure thought. Things that
grow in the earth--

TOM: (_nodding_) I suppose because we grew in the earth.

DICK: I'm always shocked to find myself in agreement with Harry, but I
too am worried about Claire--and this, (_looking at the plants_)

TOM: It's her best chance.

DICK: Don't you hate to go away to India--for ever--leaving Claire's
future uncertain?

TOM: You're cruel now. And you knew that you were being cruel.

DICK: Yes, I like the lines of your face when you suffer.

TOM: The lines of yours when you're causing suffering--I don't like
them.

DICK: Perhaps that's your limitation.

TOM: I grant you it may be. (_They are silent_) I had an odd feeling
that you and I sat here once before, long ago, and that we were plants.
And you were a beautiful plant, and I--I was a very ugly plant. I
confess it surprised me--finding myself so ugly a plant.

(_A young girl is seen outside_. HARRY _gets the door open for her and
brings_ ELIZABETH _in_.)

HARRY: There's heat here. And two of your mother's friends. Mr
Demming--Richard Demming--the artist--and I think you and Mr Edgeworthy
are old friends.

(ELIZABETH _comes forward. She is the creditable young American--well
built, poised, 'cultivated', so sound an expression of the usual as to
be able to meet the world with assurance--assurance which training h