SYBIL. Cannot we be left alone? Surely--! [SANDFORD bows stiffly and
moves away, following ST. OLPHERTS.] However, there's this to be said
for them, poor people--whatever is done to save my husband's prospects
in life must be done now. It is no longer possible to play fast and
loose with friends and supporters--to say nothing of enemies. His
future now rests upon a matter of days--hours almost. [Rising and
walking about agitatedly.] That is why I am sent here--well, why I am
here.
AGNES. [In a low, quavering voice.] What is it you are all asking me to
do now?
SYBIL. We are asking you to continue to--to exert your influence over
him for a little while longer.
AGNES. [Rising unsteadily.] Ah--! [She makes a movement to go, falters,
and irresolutely sits again.] My influence--mine!
SYBIL. [With a stamp of the foot.] You wouldn't underrate your power if
you had seen him, heard him, about an hour ago--[mockingly] after he
had discovered his bereavement.
AGNES. He will soon forget me.
SYBIL. Yes--if you don't forsake him.
AGNES. I am going to England, into Yorkshire; according to your
showing, that should draw him back.
SYBIL. Oh, I've no doubt that we shall hear of him--in Yorkshire!
You'll find him dangling about your skirts--in Yorkshire!
AGNES. And he will find that I am determined--strong.
SYBIL. Ultimately he will tire, of course. But when? And what assurance
have we that he returns to us when he has wearied of pursuing you?
Besides, don't I tell you that we must make sure of him now? It's of no
use his begging us, in a month's time, to patch up home and reputation.
It must be now--and you can end our suspense. Come, hideous as it
sounds, this is not much to ask.
AGNES. [Shrinking from her.] Oh--!
SYBIL. Oh, don't regard me as the wife! That's an unnecessary
sentiment, I pledge you my word. It's a little late in the day, too,
for such considerations. So, come, help us!
AGNES. I will not.