AMOS. The Duke and Sir Sandford Cleeve.
GERTRUDE. At the hotel.
AMOS. I found them sitting together in the hall, smoking, listening to
some music.
GERTRUDE. Quite contented with the arrangement they believed they had
brought about.
AMOS. Apparently so. Especially the Baronet--a poor, cadaverous
creature.
GERTRUDE. Where was Mr. Cleeve?
AMOS. He had been there, had an interview with his wife, and departed.
GERTRUDE. Then by this time he has discovered that Mrs. Ebbsmith has
left him?
AMOS. I suppose so.
GERTRUDE. Well, well! The Duke and the cadaverous Baronet?
AMOS. Oh, I told them that I considered it my duty to let them know
that the position of affairs had suddenly become altered--[she puts
the pipe in his mouth, and strikes a match.]--that, in point of
fact, Mrs. Ebbsmith had ceased to be an element in their scheme for
re-establishing Mr. Cleeve's household.
GERTRUDE. [Holding a light to his pipe.] Did they inquire as to her
movements?
AMOS. The Duke did--guessed we had taken her.
GERTRUDE. What did they say to that?
AMOS. The Baronet asked me whether I was the chaplain of a Home for
[angrily]--ah!
GERTRUDE. Brute! And then?
AMOS. Then they suggested that I ought hardly to leave them to make the
necessary explanation to their relative, Mr. Lucas Cleeve.
GERTRUDE. Yes--well?
AMOS. I replied that I fervently hoped I should never set eyes on their
relative again.
GERTRUDE [Gleefully.] Ha!
AMOS. But that Mrs. Ebbsmith had left a letter behind her at the
Palazzo Arconati, addressed to that gentleman, which I presume
contained so full an explanation as he could desire.
GERTRUDE. Oh, Amos--!
AMOS. Eh?
GERTRUDE. You're mistaken there, dear; there was no letter.
AMOS. No letter--?
GERTRUDE. Simply four shakily-written words.
AMOS. Only four words!