Oh, you're a fine girl, Mary. Now go up and see your room

Mrs. Marshall:

You haven't changed, Mary. Not at all. Mary Marshall:
Thank you, Aunt Sarah. Oh, it's so good to be here. Mrs. Marshall:
I'm so glad to have you with us, dear. Awfully glad. Barbara, come on down! You can share Barbara's room. Mary Marshall:
Oh, dear, I don't want to disturb anybody. I, don't ... Mrs. Marshall:
Oh, nonsense. Barbara will love to have you. Here, for heaven's sake, give me your coat. Anyway, it's the guest room, or it was before Barbara was born. Besides, I think it would be a very good thing for Barbara. She's seventeen. Mary Marshall:
Seventeen? Mrs. Marshall:
And she's pretty, spoiled, and at an age, oh, you know. I think an older girl will be a very good thing for her right now. Like you. Yes, Like you. Now, there's a million things to talk about, but first you want to wash up. Barbara Marshall:
[coming downstairs]
Hello, Mary. I'm awfully glad to see you. Mary Marshall:
Hello, Barbara. Why, I never would have known you. She's grown into a beauty. Barbara Marshall:
Welcome home. Mrs. Marshall:
Take Mary up to your room, dear. Barbara Marshall:
Follow me, lady, to my boudoir. Although it's small, not much bigger than a cell. Oh, I'm sorry, Mary. Mary Marshall:
Look, there's just one thing. We all know that I've been in prison, and I'm going back in eight days. And there's no use pretending it isn't so. It just won't be any good unless everybody says what he thinks, and doesn't try to cover up. Mrs. Marshall:
Oh, you're a fine girl, Mary. Now go up and see your room