"William, will you open your eyes and take a proper look at her? She is not sane. She isn't healthy and we mustn't have her around Cynthia. She is not a good influence."
"Clara, leave her alone. She is merely a child. It's her imagination at play."
"Normal little girls don't run away from non-visible "red-eyed monsters" when they're in their backyard. They don't doodle the name of some boy they do not personally know on their slate board at school."
"Clara, leave her be."
"I cannot bear to see a child of ours live like this any longer."
"For the last time, there is nothing wrong with our daughter."
"William, I am begging you, please. Take one look at her. She's acting peculiarly. Please. What if she is retarded or has a mental illness?"
"She has neither, dear."
"And how do you know that?"
"She is a very bright young lady. Always proficient with your lessons, no? She always makes her bed and does her chores. Washes and arrives on time for meals. She is sane, and I couldn't have asked God for a better daughter."
"William."
"Drop it, Clara."
"But Josephine's little Hattie is the same age, and she makes these lovely grass dolls, and she sews."
"Clara, I asked you to drop the topic."
"But…"
"I am the head of this house, and I do not want this nonsense discussed, understood?"
"Yes, William."