LUCAS. Agnes dear, you and I leave here early tomorrow.
AGNES. Very well, Lucas.
LUCAS. [To ST. OLPHERTS.] Duke, will you be the bearer of a note from
me to Sandford?
ST. OLPHERTS. Certainly.
LUCAS. [Going to the door of his room.] I'll write it at once.
ST. OLPHERTS. [Raising his voice.] You won't see Sandford, then, dear
Lucas, for a moment or two?
LUCAS. No, no; pray excuse me. [He goes out. ST. OLPHERTS advances to
AGNES. The sound of the music dies away.]
ST. OLPHERTS. [Slipping his coat off and throwing it upon the head of
the settee.] Upon my soul, I think you've routed us!
AGNES. Yes.
ST. OLPHERTS. [Sitting, breaking into a laugh.] Ha, ha! he, he, he! Sir
Sandford and Mrs. Cleeve will be so angry. Such a devil of a journey
for nothing! Ho! [Coughing.] Ho, ho, ho!
AGNES. This was to be your grand coup.
ST. OLPHERTS. I admit it--I have been keeping this in reserve.
AGNES. I see. A further term of cat-and-dog life for Lucas and this
lady--but it would have served to dispose of me, you fondly imagined.
I see.
ST. OLPHERTS. I knew your hold on him was weakening. [She looks at
him.] You knew it too. [She looks away.] He was beginning to find out
that a dowdy demagogue is not the cheeriest person to live with. I
repeat, you're a dooced clever woman, my dear. [She rises, with an
impatient shake of her body, and walks past him, he following her with
his eyes.] And a handsome one, into the bargain.
AGNES. Tsch!
ST. OLPHERTS. Tell me, when did you make up your mind to transform
yourself?
AGNES. Suddenly, after our interview this afternoon; after what you
said--
ST. OLPHERTS. Oh--!
AGNES. [With a little shiver.] An impulse.
ST. OLPHERTS. Impulse doesn't account for the possession of those
gorgeous trappings.
AGNES. These rags? A surprise gift from Lucas, today.
ST. OLPHERTS. Really, my dear, I believe I've helped to bring about my
own defeat. [Laughing softly.] Ho, ho, ho! How disgusted the Cleeve
family will be! Ha, ha! [Testily.] Come, why don't you smile--laugh?
You can afford to do so! Show your pretty white teeth! Laugh!
AGNES. [Hysterically.] Ha, ha, ha! Ha!
ST. OLPHERTS. That's better! [Pushing the cigarette-box towards him,
she takes a cigarette and places it between her lips. He also takes a
cigarette gaily. They smoke--she standing, with an elbow resting upon
the top of the stove, looking down upon him.]
ST. OLPHERTS. [As he lights his cigarette.] This isn't explosive, I
hope? No nitric and sulphuric acid, with glycerine--eh? [Eyeing her
wonderingly and admiringly.] By jove! Which is you--the shabby,
shapeless rebel who entertained me this afternoon or--[kissing the
tips of his fingers to her]--or that?
AGNES. This--this. [Seating herself, slowly and thoughtfully, facing
the stove, her back turned to him.] My sex has found me out.
ST. OLPHERTS. Ha! tsch! [Between his teeth.] Damn it, for your sake I
almost wish Lucas was a different sort of feller!
AGNES. [Partly to herself, with intensity.] Nothing matters now--not
even that. He's mine. He would have died but for me. I gave him life.
He is my child, my husband, my lover, my bread, my daylight--all--
everything. Mine! Mine!
ST. OLPHERTS. [Rising and limping over to her.] Good luck, my girl.
AGNES. Thanks!
ST. OLPHERTS. I'm rather sorry for you. This sort of triumph is
short-lived, you know.
AGNES. [Turning to him.] I know. But I shall fight for every moment
that prolongs it. This is my hour.
ST. OLPHERTS. Your hour--?
AGNES. There's only one hour in a woman's life.
ST. OLPHERTS. One--?
AGNES. One supreme hour. Her poor life is like the arch of a crescent;
so many years lead up to that hour, so many weary years decline from
it. No matter what she may strive for, there is a moment when
Circumstance taps her upon the shoulder and says "Woman, this hour is
the best that Earth has to spare you." It may come to her in calm or in
temper, lighted by a steady radiance or by the glitter of evil stars;
but however it comes, be it good or evil, it is her hour--let her
dwell upon every second of it!
ST. OLPHERTS. And this little victory of yours--the possession of this
man; you think this is the best that Earth can spare you? [She nods
slowly and deliberately, with fixed eyes.] Dear me, how amusin' you
women are! And in your dowdy days you had ambitions? [She looks at him
suddenly.] They were of a queer, gunpowder-and-faggot sort--but they
were ambitions.
AGNES. [Starting up.] Oh--! [Putting her hands to her brows.] Oh--!
[Facing him.] Yes, yes! You're right! Once, long ago, I hoped that my
hour would be very different from this. Ambitions! I have seen myself,
standing, humbly-clad, looking down upon a dense, swaying crowd--a
scarlet flag for my background. I have seen the responsive look upon
thousands of white, eager, hungry faces, and I've heard the great
hoarse shout of welcome as I have seized my flag and hurried down
amongst the people--to be given a place among their leaders! I! With
the leaders, the leaders! Yes, that is what I once hoped would be my
hour! [Her voice sinking.] But this is my hour.
ST. OLPHERTS. Well, my dear, when it's over, you'll have the
satisfaction of counting the departing footsteps of a ruined man.
AGNES. Ruined--!
ST. OLPHERTS. Yes, there's great compensation in that--for women.
AGNES. [Sitting.] Why do you suggest he'll be ruined through me?
[Uneasily.] At any rate, he'd ended his old career before we met.
ST. OLPHERTS. Pardon me; it's not now too late for him to resume that
career. The threads are not quite broken yet.