AGNES. Yes, yes, I know. [Looking at him searchingly.] After all, your
old career was--a success. You made your mark, as you were saying the
other day. You did make your mark. [He walks up and down restlessly,
abstractedly, her eyes following him.] You were generally spoken of,
accepted, as a Coming Man. The Coming Man, often, wasn't it?
LUCAS. [With an impatient wave of the hand.] That doesn't matter!
AGNES. And now you are giving it up--giving it all up.
[He sits on the settee, resting his elbow on his knee, pushing his hand
through his hair.]
LUCAS. But--but you believe I shall succeed equally well in this new
career of mine?
AGNES. [Stonily.] There's the risk, you must remember.
LUCAS. Obviously, there's the risk. Why do you say all this to me now?
AGNES. Because now is the opportunity to--to go back.
LUCAS. [Scornfully.] Opportunity--?
AGNES. An excellent one. You're so strong and well now.
LUCAS. Thanks to you.
AGNES. [Staring before her.] Well--I did nurse you carefully, didn't
I?
LUCAS. But I don't understand you. You are surely not proposing to--to
--break with me?
AGNES. No--I--I--I was only thinking that you--you might see
something in this suggestion of a compromise.
[LUCAS glances at ST. OLPHERTS, whose back is turned to them. ST.
OLPHERTS instinctively looks round, then goes and sits by the window.]
LUCAS. [Looking at her searchingly.] Well, but--you--?