"If I might, Mrs. Muir, you never speak of him."
"You've never asked."
"Perhaps, but no one's ever tried to take away, to interfere –"
"With the only family you've ever known?"
"Is that what you think I'm really concerned with?"
"I think you're a ghost who's worried because I favor one dead man over another dead man."
"Blast it woman, that is not – you do?"
"I do."
"How dare you consider me dead!"
"Dead, but not gone!"
"Madame, I hardly see the humor in that remark."
"Well, I thought I detected charming jealousy before you redacted the entire conversation to a silly argument about who's deader, you or Bobby."
"That's the first time you've ever mentioned his name."
"Then it should be very obvious which very alive dead man I prefer."
"Perhaps, but you have yet to utter my name."
"Or you, mine for that matter."
"One female name, two blasted men's names."
"And only one choice."
"Carolyn."
"Daniel?"
"Forgive me, Madame.
"Daniel?"
"Yes, my dear?"
"He never had my heart."