ST. OLPHERTS. Oh, my dear sir!--If I may use such an expression in
your presence--here is the devil to pay!
AMOS. [To ST. OLPHERTS.] You don't mind my pipe. [ST. OLPHERTS waves a
hand pleasantly.] And I don't mind your expression--[sitting by the
table]--the devil to pay?
ST. OLPHERTS. This, I daresay well intentioned, interference of yours
has brought about some very unpleasant results. Mr. Cleeve returns to
the Palazzo Arconati and find that Mrs. Ebbsmith has flown.
AMOS. That result, at least, was inevitable.
ST. OLPHERTS. Whereupon he hurries back to the Danieli and denounces us
all for a set of conspirators.
AMOS. Your Grace doesn't complain of the injustice of that charge?
ST. OLPHERTS. [Smilingly.] No, no, I don't complain. But the brother--
the wife! Just when they imagined they had bagged the truant--there's
the sting!
GERTRUDE. Oh, then Mr. Cleeve now refuses to carry out his part of the
shameful arrangement?
ST. OLPHERTS. Absolutely. [Rising, taking a chair, and placing it by
the settee.] Come into this, dear Mrs. Thorn--!
AMOS. Thorpe.
ST. OLPHERTS. Come into this! [Sitting again.] You understand the sort
of man we have to deal with in Mr. Cleeve.
GERTRUDE. [Sitting.] A man who prizes a woman when he has lost her.
ST. OLPHERTS. Precisely.
GERTRUDE. Men don't relish, I suppose, being cast off by women.
ST. OLPHERTS. It's an inversion of the picturesque; the male abandoned
is not a pathetic figure. At any rate, our poor Lucas is now raving
fidelity to Mrs. Ebbsmith.
GERTRUDE. [Indignantly.] Ah--!
ST. OLPHERTS. If you please, he cannot, will not, exist without her.
Reputation, fame, fortune are nothing weighed against--Mrs. Ebbsmith.
And we may go to perdition, so that he recovers--Mrs. Ebbsmith.
AMOS. Well--to be plain--you're not asking us to sympathise with Mrs.
Cleeve and her brother-in-law over their defeat?
ST. OLPHERTS. Certainly not. All I ask, Mr. Winterfield, is that you
will raise no obstacle to a meeting between Mr. Cleeve and--and--
GERTRUDE. No!
[ST. OLPHERTS signifies assent; GERTRUDE makes a movement.]
ST. OLPHERTS. [To her.] Don't go.
AMOS. The object of such a meeting?
ST. OLPHERTS. Mrs. Cleeve desires to make a direct, personal appeal to
Mrs. Ebbsmith.
GERTRUDE. Oh, what kind of woman can this Mrs. Cleeve be?
ST. OLPHERTS. A woman of character, who sets herself to accomplish a
certain task--
GERTRUDE. Character!
AMOS. Hush, Gerty!
ST. OLPHERTS. And who gathers her skirts tightly around her and
tip-toes gently into the mire.
AMOS. To put it clearly: in order to get her unfaithful husband back to
London, Mrs. Cleeve would deliberately employ this weak, unhappy woman
as a lure.
ST. OLPHERTS. Perhaps Mrs. Cleeve is an unhappy woman.
GERTRUDE. What work for a wife!
ST. OLPHERTS. Wife--nonsense! She is only married to Cleeve.
AMOS. [Walking up and down.] It is proposed that this meeting should
take place--when?
ST. OLPHERTS. I have brought Sir Sandford and Mrs. Cleeve with me.
[Pointing towards the outer door.] They are--
AMOS. If I decline?
ST. OLPHERTS. It's known you leave for Milan at a quarter to nine in
the morning; there might be some sort of foolish, inconvenient scene at
the station.
AMOS. Surely your Grace--?
ST. OLPHERTS. Oh, no, I shall be in bed at that hour. I mean, between
the women, perhaps--and Mr. Cleeve. Come, come, sir, you can't abduct
Mrs. Ebbsmith--nor can we. Nor must you gag her. [AMOS appears angry
and perplexed.] Pray be reasonable. Let her speak out for herself--
here, finally--and settle the business. Come, sir, come!
AMOS. [Going to GERTRUDE and speaking in a low voice.] Ask her.
[GERTRUDE goes out.] Cleeve! Where is he while this poor creature's
body and soul are being played for? You have told him she is with us?
ST. OLPHERTS. No, I haven't.
AMOS. He must suspect it.
ST. OLPHERTS. Well, candidly, Mr. Winterfield, Mr. Cleeve is just now
employed in looking for Mrs. Ebbsmith elsewhere.
AMOS. Elsewhere?
ST. OLPHERTS. Sir Sandford recognised that, in his brother's present
mood, the young man's presence might be prejudicial to the success of
these delicate negotiations.
AMOS. So some lie has been told him, to keep him out of the way?
ST. OLPHERTS. Now, Mr. Winterfield--!
AMOS. Good heavens! Duke--forgive me for my roughness--you appear to
be fouling your hands, all of you, with some relish!
ST. OLPHERTS. I must trouble you to address remarks of that nature to
Sir Sandford Cleeve. I am no longer a prime mover in the affair. I am
simply standing by.
AMOS. But how can you "stand by"?
ST. OLPHERTS. Confound it, sir, if you will trouble yourself to rescue
people, there is a man to be rescued here as well as a woman; a man, by
the way, who is a--a sort of relative of mine.
AMOS. The woman first!
ST. OLPHERTS. Not always. You can rescue this woman in a few weeks'
time; it can make no difference.
AMOS. [Indignantly.] Ah--!
ST. OLPHERTS. Oh, you are angry!
AMOS. I beg your pardon. One word. I assure your Grace that I truly
believe this wretched woman is at a fatal crisis in her life. I believe
that if I lose her now there is every chance of her slipping back into
a misery and despair out of which it will be impossible to drag her.
Oh, I'll be perfectly open with you. At this moment we--my sister and
I--are not perfectly sure of her. Her affection for this man may still
induce her to sacrifice herself utterly for him; she is still in danger
of falling to the lowest depth a woman can attain. Come, Duke, don't
help these people. And don't "stand by!" Help me and my sister. For
God's sake!
ST. OLPHERTS. My good Mr. Winterfield, believe me or not, I--I
positively like this woman.
AMOS. [Gladly.] Ah!