JUDITH. (_running to him_). Oh, here you are at last, at last! (_She attempts to embrace him._)
ANDERSON. (_keeping her off_). Take care, my love: I’m wet. Wait till I get my cloak off. (_He places a chair with its back to the fire; hangs his cloak on it to dry; shakes the rain from his hat and puts it on the fender; and at last turns with his hands outstretched to Judith._) Now! (_She flies into his arms._) I am not late, am I? The town clock struck the quarter as I came in at the front door. And the town clock is always fast.
JUDITH. I’m sure it’s slow this evening. I’m so glad you’re back.
ANDERSON. (_taking her more closely in his arms_). Anxious, my dear?
JUDITH. Only a little. Never mind: it’s all over now. (_A bugle call is heard in the distance. She starts in terror and retreats to the long seat, listening._) What’s that?
ANDERSON. (_following her tenderly to the seat and making her sit down with him_). Only King George, my dear. He’s returning to barracks, or having his roll called, or getting ready for tea, or booting or saddling or something. Soldiers don’t ring the bell or call over the banisters when they want anything: they send a boy out with a bugle to disturb the whole town.
JUDITH. Do you think there is really any danger?
JUDITH. You say that to comfort me, not because you believe it.
ANDERSON. My dear: in this world there is always danger for those who are afraid of it. There’s a danger that the house will catch fire in the night; but we shan’t sleep any the less soundly for that.
JUDITH. Yes, I know what you always say; and you’re quite right. Oh, quite right: I know it. But—I suppose I’m not brave: that’s all. My heart shrinks every time I think of the soldiers.
ANDERSON. Never mind that, dear: bravery is none the worse for costing a little pain.
JUDITH. Yes, I suppose so. (_Embracing him again._) Oh how brave you are, my dear! (_With tears in her eyes._) Well, I’ll be brave too: you shan’t be ashamed of your wife.
ANDERSON. That’s right. Now you make me happy. Well, well! (_He rises and goes cheerily to the fire to dry his shoes._) I called on Richard Dudgeon on my way back; but he wasn’t in.
JUDITH. (_rising in consternation_). You called on that man!
ANDERSON. (_reassuring her_). Oh, nothing happened, dearie. He was out.