LUCAS. Ah, remember, we're rational beings for the future. However, we
needn't talk about it now.
AGNES. No.
LUCAS. Still, I assume you wouldn't oppose it. You would marry me if I
wished it?
AGNES. [in a low voice.] Yes.
LUCAS. That's a sensible girl! By Jove, I am hungry! [He lights a
cigarette as she walks slowly to the door, then throws himself idly
back on the settee.]
AGNES. [To herself, in a whisper.] My old life--my old life coming all
over again! [She goes out. He lies watching the wreaths of tobacco
smoke. After a moment or two FORTUNE enters, closing the door carefully
behind him.]
LUCAS. Eh?
FORTUNE. [After a glance round, dropping his voice.] Ze Duke of St.
Olphert 'e say 'e vould like to speak a meenit alone. [LUCAS rises,
with a muttered exclamation of annoyance.]
LUCAS. Priez Monsieur le Duc d'entrer.
[FORTUNE goes to the door and opens it. The DUKE OF ST. OLPHERTS
enters; he is in evening dress. FORTUNE retires.]
ST. OLPHERTS. Quite alone?
LUCAS. For the moment.
ST. OLPHERTS. My excuse to Mrs. Ebbsmith for not dining at the Grunwald
--it was a perfectly legitimate one, dear Lucas. I really was expecting
visitors.
LUCAS. [Wonderingly.] Yes?
ST. OLPHERTS. [With a little cough and a drawn face.] Oh, I am not so
well tonight. Damn these people for troubling me! Damn 'em for keeping
me hopping about! Damn 'em for every shoot I feel in my leg. Visitors
from England--they've arrived.
LUCAS. But what--?
ST. OLPHERTS. I shall die of gout some day, Lucas. Er--your wife is
here.
LUCAS. Sybil!
ST. OLPHERTS. She's come through with your brother. Sandford's a worse
prig than ever--and I'm in shockin' pain.
LUCAS. This--this is your doing?
ST. OLPHERTS. Yes. Damn you, don't keep me standing!
[AGNES enters with LUCAS'S hat and coat. She stops abruptly on seeing
ST. OLPHERTS.]
ST. OLPHERTS. [By the settee--playfully, through his pain] Ah, my dear
Mrs. Ebbsmith, how can you have the heart to deceive an invalid, a poor
wretch who begs you--[sitting on the settee] to allow him to sit down
for a moment? [AGNES deposits the hat and coat.]
AGNES. Deceive--?
ST. OLPHERTS. My friends arrive, I dine scrappily with them, and hurry
to the Grunwald thinking to catch you over your Zabajone. Dear lady,
you haven't been near the Grunwald.
AGNES. Your women faint sometimes, don't they?
ST. OLPHERTS. My--? [In pain.] Oh, what do you mean?
AGNES. The women in your class of life?
ST. OLPHERTS. Faint? Oh yes, when there's occasion for it.
AGNES. I'm hopelessly low-born; I fainted involuntarily.
ST. OLPHERTS. [Moving closer to her.] Oh, my dear, pray forgive me.
You've recovered? [She nods.] Indisposition agrees with you, evidently.
Your colouring tonight is charming. [Coughing.] You are--delightful--
to--look at.
[GERTRUDE enters, carrying a tray on which are a bowl of soup, a small
decanter of wine, and accessories. She looks at ST. OLPHERTS
unconcernedly, then turns away and places the tray on a table.]
ST. OLPHERTS. [Quietly to AGNES.] Not a servant?
AGNES, Oh, no.
ST. OLPHERTS. [Rising promptly.] Good God! I beg your pardon. A friend?
AGNES. Yes.
ST. OLPHERTS. [Looking at GERTRUDE, critically.] Very nice. [Still
looking at GERTRUDE, but speaking to AGNES in undertones.] Married
or--? [Turning to AGNES.] Married or--?
GERTRUDE. [To LUCAS, looking around.] It is draughty at this table.
LUCAS. [Going to the table near the settee, and collecting the writing
materials.] Here--[AGNES joins GERTRUDE.]
ST. OLPHERTS. [Quietly to LUCAS.] Lucas--[LUCAS goes to him.] Who's
that gal?
LUCAS. [To ST. OLPHERTS.] An hotel acquaintance we made in Florence--
Mrs Thorpe.
ST. OLPHERTS. Where's the husband?
LUCAS. A widow.