Chapter 7

Yes, yes. [_Weeping and shaking and gasping, she goes to the door and unlocks it. He tip-toes into the bedroom and turns out the light there. She opens the door an inch or two._] Yes?

TWO VOICES.

[_A mans and a woman's._] What is it? what's the matter?

SOPHY.

[_Steadying herself, with an effort._] Nothing. Only her Grace has gone to Mrs. Eden's room and wishes her letters taken there in the morning most particularly--see?

THE VOICES.

What did you ring like that for? Thought the place was afire!

SOPHY.

Oh, don't make a fuss about nothing. You servants _are_ an old-fashioned lot. Bong swor!

THE VOICES.

[_Angrily._] Oh, good-night.

SOPHY.

Ha, ha, ha!

[_She closes the door and totters away from it, sobbing hysterically, as_ QUEX _comes to her._

QUEX.

[_Kindly._] Be off. Go to bed. Serve me how you please. Miss Fullgarney, upon my soul, I--I humbly beg your pardon.

SOPHY.

[_Passing him._] Oh! oh! oh! [_Turning to him._] Oh, God bless you! You--you--you're a gentleman! I'll do what I can for you!

[_She staggers to the passage-door and disappears, closing the door behind her. Then he extinguishes the remaining light, and cautiously lets himself out at the other door._

END OF THE THIRD ACT.

THE FOURTH ACT

_The scene is the same, in every respect, as that of the First Act._

[_On the right_ MISS CLARIDGE _is manicuring a young gentleman. On the left_ MISS MOON _is putting her manicure-table in order, as if she has recently disposed of a customer._ MISS LIMBIRD _is again at her desk, busy over accounts. The door-gong sounds and, after a short interval,_ QUEX _and_ FRAYNE _enter, preceded by_ MISS HUDDLE. FRAYNE _appears particularly depressed and unwell._

QUEX.

[_Nodding to_ MISS LIMBIRD.] Good morning.

MISS LIMBIRD.

Morning.

QUEX.

[_To_ MISS HUDDLE.] Miss Fullgarney has not yet arrived, you say?

MISS HUDDLE.

Not yet.

QUEX.

[_Looking at his watch._] Twenty minutes to twelve.

MISS MOON.

Yes, we've never known Miss Fullgarney to be so late at her business. I do hope she hasn't been run over and injured.

MISS HUDDLE.

Or murdered by tramps.

QUEX.

My dear young lady!

MISS MOON.

Well, one does read _such_ things in the ha'penny papers.

MISS HUDDLE.

And she went down to Richmond yesterday afternoon, you know--to Fauncey Court.

QUEX.

Of course I know--and slept there.

MISS MOON.

Oh, did she?

QUEX.

And has come up to town this morning.

MISS HUDDLE.

Then she'll have gone home, I expect, to change.

MISS MOON.

That's what she's done. [_Slightly disappointed._] Well, I _should_ have been sorry if anything had happened to her.

QUEX.

Naturally.

MISS HUDDLE.

So should I, though I'm quite new here.

MISS MOON.

It never gives _me_ any pleasure to hear of people having their limbs crushed.

MISS HUDDLE.

Or being murdered by tramps.

MISS MOON.

Won't your lordship take a chair? [_To_ FRAYNE, _who has wandered down to the window._] And you, sir?

[_The young gentleman, his manicuring being finished, has risen, paid_ MISS LIMBIRD _and departed, followed by_ MISS CLARIDGE _carrying her bowl and towel. The door-gong sounds._

QUEX.

Is that she?

MISS MOON.

No; that young gentleman leaving.

[MISS MOON, _carrying her bowl and towel, and_ MISS HUDDLE, _after exchanging a few words with_ MISS LIMBIRD, _withdraw._

FRAYNE.

[_To_ QUEX, _biliously._] How revoltingly hideous these gals look this morning!

QUEX.

Same as yesterday. You're seedy.

FRAYNE.

[_Closing his eyes._] Oh, shockingly seedy. [_Sitting._] I'm in for a go of malaria, I fear.

QUEX.

Shame of me to have routed you out of bed and bothered you with my affairs. [_Sitting._] But you can quite understand, Chick, how confoundedly anxious I am as to the attitude Miss Fullgarney will adopt towards me to-day.

FRAYNE.

Quite, quite. Harry--

QUEX.

Yes?

FRAYNE.

_What_ champagne was it we drank last night at Richmond?

QUEX.

[_With some bitterness._] Ha! Félix Poubelle, Carte d'Or.

FRAYNE.

[_Shaking his head._] _I_ can't take champagne.

QUEX.

_Can't_ you!

FRAYNE.

I mean I oughtn't to.

QUEX.

Oh. [_Referring to his watch again._] I've given you a pretty minute account of last night's tragedy, Chick. "I'll do what I can for you"--those were the Fullgarney's words. Good lord, they came at me like a bolt from the blue! Does she intend to act up to them, eh?--that's the question. Surely she'll act up to them, Chick?

FRAYNE.

Have you met the ladies this morning?

QUEX.

Yes--except Muriel, who didn't show at breakfast.

FRAYNE.

How did you find 'em?

QUEX.

Amiability itself; _they_ know nothing. [_Rising and looking down upon_ FRAYNE.] You see, Chick, all that Miss Fullgarney has to do--if she hasn't already done it--is to tell a trifling taradiddle to Muriel concerning the events of last night. Well, in effect, she has promised to do that, hasn't she? [_Impatiently._] Eh?

FRAYNE.

[_Gloomily._] Frankly, Harry, I shouldn't be in the least surprised if the jade sold you.

QUEX.

[_His jaw falling._] You wouldn't?

FRAYNE.

No.

QUEX.

Phew! _I_ should. [_Warmly._] By Jove, I should!

FRAYNE.

I have conceived a great aversion to her--a long, scraggy gal.

QUEX.

[_With enthusiasm._] As full of courage as a thoroughbred!

FRAYNE.

[_Closing his eyes._] I can picture her elbows; sharp, pointed elbows--the barbed fence of the spiteful woman.

QUEX.

Pooh! yesterday she was alluring.

FRAYNE.

[_Rising painfully._] Yesterday--! [_Gravely._] Harry, do you know there are moments when I feel that I am changing towards the sex; when I fancy I can discern the skeleton, as it were, through the rounded cheek?

QUEX.

You!

FRAYNE.

Yes, this novel sentiment is undoubtedly gaining possession of your old friend--gradually, perhaps, but surely.

QUEX.

[_Regarding him searchingly._] Excuse me, Chick--did you turn into the Beefsteak when you got back from Richmond last night?

FRAYNE.

For an hour. Oh, a great mistake.

QUEX.

What, a little whisky on the top of champagne?

FRAYNE.

[_Gazing pathetically at_ QUEX _with watery eyes._] A good deal of champagne underneath a lot of whisky.

[_The door-gong sounds._

QUEX.

Who's this? [_He walks to the entrance, and looks into the further room._] The Fullgarney.

[_He returns to his former position, as_ SOPHY _enters quickly followed by_ MISS CLARIDGE, MISS MOON, _and_ MISS HUDDLE. SOPHY--_dressed as at the end of the First Act--is pale, red-eyed, and generally unstrung. She comes to_ QUEX, _disconcerted by his presence._

SOPHY.

[_Confronting him._] Oh, good morning.

QUEX.

May I beg a few moments--?

SOPHY.

Er--certainly. I'll just take off my things--

[_He joins_ FRAYNE. _She goes across the room where she is surrounded by her girls._

MISS CLARIDGE.

Oh, Miss Fullgarney, how ill you look!

MISS MOON.

You do seem queer!

MISS HUDDLE.

Just as if you were sickening for something.

MISS LIMBIRD.

[_Coming between_ MISS CLARIDGE _and_ SOPHY.] Quite ghostly!

SOPHY.

I'm all right, girls; I've had a bad night, that's all. [_Giving her umbrella to_ MISS CLARIDGE _and her bag to_ MISS MOON, _who passes it to_ MISS HUDDLE.] Here! hi! take that beastly bag. [_To_ MISS LIMBIRD, _who is removing her hat._] Oh, don't waggle my head, whatever you do! [_To_ MISS MOON, _who is pulling at her jacket._] Tear the thing off. [_Stripping off her gloves, and speaking in a whisper._] Girls, I don't want to be disturbed for five minutes.

MISS LIMBIRD.

Very well, Miss Fullgarney.

SOPHY.

[_Glancing at_ QUEX _and_ FRAYNE, _who are now looking out of the window, with their backs towards her._] If Miss Eden should happen to turn up before I'm free, just mention who I'm engaged with, will you?

MISS MOON.

Yes, Miss Fullgarney.

SOPHY.

That'll do. [_With sudden fierceness._] What are you all staring at? Haven't any of _you_ ever slept in a strange bed?

[_The girls retreat hastily, each carrying an article belonging to_ SOPHY.

QUEX.

[_Advancing a step or two._] I am exceedingly sorry to see you looking so fatigued.

SOPHY.

[_Faintly._] Didn't close my eyes the whole night. [_She drops the_ portière _over the entrance, and approaches_ QUEX.] Well, my lord?

QUEX.

I have ventured to call upon you, Miss Fullgarney, in the hope of ratifying the excellent understanding with which we parted last night.

SOPHY.

[_Pointing to_ FRAYNE.] Well, but--er--

QUEX.

Oh--oh, yes--[_To_ FRAYNE, _who has turned away._] Frayne--[_To_ SOPHY.] I have taken my old and trusted friend, Sir Chichester Frayne, into my confidence in this regrettable business.

SOPHY.

[_Dubiously._] Indeed?

QUEX.

I thought it desirable there should be a third party--

SOPHY.

P'r'aps you're right. [_Cuttingly._] One needs a third party when one has the honour of meeting your lordship--[_Checking herself._] Excuse me.

QUEX.

[_Pleasantly, with a slight bow of acknowledgment._] Before we go further, I may tell you that her Grace has informed me of what passed between you this morning.

SOPHY.

Nothing passed.

QUEX.

Precisely.

SOPHY.

The lady beamed upon me, for all the world as if she was an angel spending a Saturday-to-Monday here below; and I dressed her hair for her just as if I didn't want to tear it out by the roots. And then she turned up her eyes and said she hoped every happiness would attend me, and went downstairs to prayers.

QUEX.

Will you allow me to--to thank you?

SOPHY.

[_Frigidly._] You needn't. [_Abruptly._] Oh, by-the-by, the lady gave me a--a keepsake, she called it. [_Endeavouring to extract some bulky object from her pocket._] I mean to burn the thing, once I've found out what's inside it. But I can't get it open. Here it is.

[_She exhibits the little box, covered with brocade, which_ QUEX _has returned to the_ DUCHESS _in the previous Act._

QUEX.

[_Surprised._] By Jove!

SOPHY.

[_Simply._] Eh?

QUEX.

Er--I was wondering what she can have put in that little box.

SOPHY.

Yes, _I_ wonder. [_Pulling at the lid._] It's locked.

QUEX.

I fancy it has one of those Bramah locks which snap. I may have a key-- [_He produces his key-ring and, promptly selecting a key, unlocks the box._] Fortunate coincidence.

[_She opens the box and takes out the first thing that presents itself--the blue silk garter with the diamond buckle._

SOPHY.

[_Scandalised._] Oh, my gracious! I _beg_ your pardon.

[_She leaves him hurriedly and hides the box in the cabinet._

QUEX.

[_Quietly to_ FRAYNE.] Chick, she has passed the souvenirs on to Miss Fullgarney!

FRAYNE.

[_Bitterly._] How like a woman!

QUEX.

Some women.

FRAYNE.

[_In disgust._] Pah!

QUEX.

Yesterday she was alluring.

FRAYNE.

[_Waving the past from him._] Yesterday--[_with a slight hiccup_] hic! [_Turning away apologetically._] The heat in this room--

[_He walks away, as_ SOPHY _returns to_ QUEX.

QUEX.

[_To_ SOPHY.] Well, I must not detain you longer, Miss Fullgarney. But there is, of course, one point upon which I should like to feel completely assured. You have seen Miss Eden--?

SOPHY.

No; not since last evening.

QUEX.

[_Anxiously._] When do you--?

SOPHY.

[_Looking away._] I'm rather expecting her to pop in here during the day.

QUEX.

Quite so. And--and then--?

SOPHY.

[_Facing him candidly._] Your lordship told me last night that your little visit to the Duchess was a perfectly innocent one?

QUEX.

Absolutely innocent. [_Hesitatingly._] I fear I cannot go further than that.

FRAYNE.

[_Fanning himself with his handkerchief._] By gad, why not, Harry? We are in Miss Fullgarney's hands. [_To_ SOPHY.] His lordship went to her Grace's apartment solely to return some gifts which he had accepted from her in the--ah--dim, distant past, and to say adieu.

SOPHY.

[_Witheringly._] Ah, I knew _she_ was a double-faced thing; [_looking at_ QUEX _relentingly_] but p'r'aps one _has_ been a little down on _you_.

QUEX.

[_Meekly._] You have it in your power to atone for that amply.

SOPHY.

[_Half-feelingly, half-sullenly._] At any rate, you behaved, in the end, like a gentleman to me last night. And so--when I see Miss Muriel--

QUEX.

Yes?

SOPHY.

[_Deliberately._] I am going to tell her a lie.

QUEX.

[_With some emotion._] Miss Fullgarney, I--I--

SOPHY.

Oh, I said I'd do what I can for you. [_Uncomfortably._] And this is all I _can_ do.

QUEX.

[_Light-heartedly._] All!

SOPHY.

Just to give you a chance.

QUEX.

Chance! [_Drawing a deep breath._] You place my happiness beyond danger.

SOPHY.

[_Impulsively, offering him her hand._] I wish you luck, my lord.

[_He takes her hand and wrings it._

FRAYNE.

[_Who has opened the window for air._] Hallo!

SOPHY.

[_Turning nervously._] What--?

FRAYNE.

[_Looking out._] Isn't this your friend, Captain Bastling?

QUEX.

Bastling?

FRAYNE.

At that window?

[FRAYNE _moves away to the circular table and sniffs at a bottle of scent._ QUEX _goes to the window._

QUEX.

[_Looking out._] Yes. What's old Napier up to there?

SOPHY.

[_Guiltily._] I--I heard Captain Bastling mention that he was thinking of having his hand read by Mr. Valma some time or other.

QUEX.

No! ha, ha, ha! [_Leaving the window._] He doesn't see me; I won't disturb him. [_To_ SOPHY, _jocularly._] A convenient arrangement--it is possible to transfer oneself from the manicurist to the palmist without the trouble of putting on one's gloves.

SOPHY.

Ha, ha! y--yes.

QUEX.

[_Pausing on his way to the entrance._] Miss Fullgarney, may I ask if you and Mr. Valma have fixed upon the date of your marriage?

SOPHY.

Oh, we sha'n't get married yet awhile--not for a year or more, I fancy.

QUEX.

[_Graciously._] In that case, I shall hope to have the pleasure, and the privilege, of being present at your wedding--with my wife.

SOPHY.

[_Hanging her head._] Thank you.

QUEX.

Chick--

[_He goes out._

FRAYNE.

[_Turning to_ SOPHY _with dignity._] Miss Fullgarney, one thing I desire to say. It is that your behaviour this morning completely obliterates--the--

[_He is cut short by another hiccup and, with a bow, withdraws._ POLLITT _appears at the window._ SOPHY _goes to the entrance, and watches the departure of_ QUEX _and_ FRAYNE. POLLITT _enters the room. The door-gong sounds._

POLLITT.

Sophy.

SOPHY.

[_Turning._] Oh! Valma, dear?

POLLITT.

[_With a heavy brow._] Captain Bastling is waiting at my place, for Miss Eden.

SOPHY.

[_Subdued._] Is he?

POLLITT.

Dearest, during my brief but, I pride myself, honourable association with palmistry, this is the first time my rooms have been used for this sort of game.

SOPHY.

This sort of game?

POLLITT.

Other Professors have stooped to it, but I--oh, no, it is playing palmistry a little bit too low down.

SOPHY.

[_Unhappily._] Surely it's quite harmless, love--a couple of young people meeting to say good-bye.

POLLITT.

From what you've told me, I greatly doubt that it _will_ be good-bye.

SOPHY.

D--d--do you?

POLLITT.

[_Hotly._] Anyhow I resent _your_ being the go-between of this gallant captain and a girl betrothed to another man--you who are naturally such a thorough lady!

SOPHY.

Oh--oh, Valma--!

[_She drops her head upon his shoulder and whimpers._

POLLITT.

Dearest, what have I said?

SOPHY.

Valma, I've made up my mind. I intend to do exactly what you wish, in the future, in everything. I'm going to give up squatting down here manicuring gentlemen--

POLLITT.

Sophy!

SOPHY.

And shall simply sail about these rooms, overlooking my girls in the plainest of silks. And never again will I interfere in an underhand way in other people's affairs on any account whatever. [_Putting her arms round his neck._] Yes, you _shall_ find me a lady--a lady--

POLLITT.

[_Tenderly._] Ah--! [_The door-gong sounds. She raises her head and dries her eyes hurriedly._] Is that Miss Eden?

[_He crosses to the window as she goes to the entrance._ MISS LIMBIRD _appears._

MISS LIMBIRD.

[_To_ SOPHY.] Here's Miss Eden.

SOPHY.

[_With a nod._] Give me half a minute with her; then I'm at liberty. [MISS LIMBIRD _disappears._ SOPHY _comes to_ POLLITT.] I'll send Muriel across directly.

[_He departs._ MISS LIMBIRD _returns and, holding the_ portière _aside, admits_ MURIEL. MURIEL _is wearing a veil._ MISS LIMBIRD _withdraws._ SOPHY _meets_ MURIEL; _they kiss each other undemonstratively._

SOPHY.

[_Constrainedly._] Well, darling?

MURIEL.

[_In the same way._] Well, Sophy?

SOPHY.

You're here then?

MURIEL.

As you see.

SOPHY.

Any difficulty?

MURIEL.

[_In a hard voice._] No. The Duchess and Mrs. Jack were coming to town shopping, and Lady Owbridge proposed that she and I should tack ourselves on to them.

SOPHY.

How have you got rid of 'em?

MURIEL.

Spoken the truth, for once--my head really does throb terribly. They think I've run in here to sit quietly with you while they--[_Suddenly._] Oh, be quick, Sophy!

SOPHY.

Quick, dear?

MURIEL.

Why don't you tell me?

SOPHY.

Tell you--?

MURIEL.

About last night--this woman--

SOPHY.

Her Grace?

MURIEL.

Yes, yes.

SOPHY.

Oh, why, I haven't anything to tell, darling.

MURIEL.

Haven't anything to--?

SOPHY.

You see, I couldn't help remembering what you'd called me--mean, and despicable, and all the rest of it; and the feeling came over me that you were right, that I had been sneaky. And so, after I'd attended to her Grace, I--I went straight to bed.

MURIEL.

[_Sitting._] Oh, yes. Then you didn't attempt to--to watch?

SOPHY.

No.

MURIEL.

[_Faintly._] Oh!

SOPHY.

Aren't you glad?

MURIEL.

Glad!

SOPHY.

Why, you were certain that the word or two I'd overheard meant nothing wrong.

MURIEL.

I said so.

SOPHY.

Said so!

MURIEL.

[_Turning to her with clenched hands._] Yes, but at the same time you put the dreadful idea into my head, Sophy, and I've not been able to dismiss it for one moment since.

SOPHY.

[_Under her breath._] Oh!

[_Sitting._

MURIEL.

[_Lifting her veil._] There! you can see what I've been going through.

SOPHY.

[_Looking at her._] I'm so sorry.

MURIEL.

[_Looking at_ SOPHY.] _You_ look rather washed out too. Haven't you slept, either?

SOPHY.

[_Turning her head away._] Not over well. [_Falteringly._] Then, after all, it would have been better if I _had_ spied on her?

MURIEL.

Anything--even that--would have been preferable to this uncertainty.

SOPHY.

[_To herself, her jaw falling._] Oh--!

MURIEL.

[_Looking towards the window._] Has _he_ arrived?

SOPHY.

Yes. [MURIEL _rises, then_ SOPHY.

MURIEL.

[_Producing, from her pocket, a jeweller's case and showing it to_ SOPHY.] Do you like this? I've just bought it, over the way, at Gressier's.

SOPHY.

For Captain Bastling?

MURIEL.

[_With a nod, opening the box._] A solitaire shirt-stud.

[_She retains a neatly-folded piece of paper which is enclosed in the box and hands the box to_ SOPHY.

SOPHY.

Beautiful. [_Glancing at the piece of paper in_ MURIEL'S _hand._] What's that?

MURIEL.

[_Unfolding the paper carefully._] This goes with it.

[_She holds the paper before_ SOPHY.

SOPHY.

[_Reading._] "To Napier--"

MURIEL.

[_Withdrawing the paper._] Ah, no.

SOPHY.

Mayn't I?

MURIEL.

[_Yielding the paper impulsively._] Yes, _you_ may.

[MURIEL _turns away and stands leaning upon the back of the screen-chair on the left, with her face in her hands._ SOPHY _places the jeweller's case upon the circular table._

SOPHY.

[_Reading with difficulty._] "To Napier from Muriel. I only--" what? You _have_ blotted it.

MURIEL.

[_With a sob._] Have I?

SOPHY.

You've been crying over it.

MURIEL.

Yes.

SOPHY.

"I only--" I can't read it.

MURIEL.

[_Through her tears._]

"I only know--we loved in vain: I only feel--Farewell!--Farewell!"

SOPHY.

[_In a low voice._] Very nice, darling. [_She lays the paper tenderly upon the box and goes to_ MURIEL. _Eyeing her keenly._] You really _are_ determined, then, to wish him good-bye?

MURIEL.

[_Turning to her and weeping upon her shoulder._] Oh, Sophy! Sophy!

SOPHY.

There, there! it'll soon be over.

MURIEL.

[_Raising her head._] Over! yes, yes! over!

SOPHY.

And--p'r'aps it's all for the best, you know.

MURIEL.

For the best!

SOPHY.

What I mean is, that very likely we've both of us been a little cruel to poor Lord Quex--hard on him--

MURIEL.

[_Indignantly._] _You_ say this to me! [_Distractedly._] _You_ say this, after having poisoned my mind and given me an awful night of sleeplessness and doubt. Yesterday I was as firm as a rock; to-day I'm as weak as water again. [_Facing_ SOPHY _with flashing eyes._] Ah, I tell you honestly you'd better not let me meet Captain Bastling this morning! you'd better not let me see him!

[_The door-gong sounds._ BASTLING _appears at the window, and looks into the room._

SOPHY.

[_Whose back is towards the window, soothingly._] No, no, you sha'n't go across to Valma's while you're like this. I'll make an excuse for you to Captain Bastling--

BASTLING.

[_At the window._] Muriel!

MURIEL.

[_Passing_ SOPHY _swiftly._] Napier!

SOPHY.

[_Holding her arm._] Darling--

MURIEL.

[_Freeing herself._] Release me, Sophy! release me! ah--!

[_She joins_ BASTLING _and they disappear. As_ SOPHY _goes to the window and looks out after them,_ QUEX _enters, followed by_ FRAYNE.

QUEX.

[_Glancing round the room._] Miss Fullgarney--

SOPHY.

[_Turning sharply._] Hey? [_Blankly._] Oh--my lord--!

QUEX.

I am compelled to intrude upon you again. I have just met Lady Owbridge, with her Grace and Mrs. Eden in Sackville Street. My aunt sends me with a message to Miss Eden.

SOPHY.

[_Confused._] M--m--Miss Eden?

QUEX.

Mrs. Eden has proposed a lunch at Prince's, provided that Miss Eden feels equal to--[_Looking about him again._] Where is Miss Eden?

SOPHY.

Where?

QUEX.

She is here--with you.

SOPHY.

N--no.

QUEX.

No?

SOPHY.

[_With a gulp._] _I_ haven't seen anything of her.

QUEX.

[_In an altered tone._] Really?

SOPHY.

No.

QUEX.

[_Calmly._] Strange.

[_He walks away and joins_ FRAYNE. SOPHY _stealthily closes and fastens the window._

QUEX.

[_In a low voice, to_ FRAYNE.] Chick--

FRAYNE.

Eh?

QUEX.

Miss Eden _is_ here. Why is the Fullgarney telling me this falsehood?

FRAYNE.

You will remember I was positive she would sell you before she'd done with you.

QUEX.

[_Gripping_ FRAYNE'S _arm._] Don't! [_Advancing to_ SOPHY--_politely._] I understood from my aunt, Miss Fullgarney, that her ladyship left Miss Eden at Gressier's, the jeweller's, less than half an hour ago.

SOPHY.

[_Fussing with the objects upon the cabinet and the manicure-table._] Oh?

QUEX.

Miss Eden had some little commission to discharge at Gressier's, and intended coming across to you immediately afterwards.

SOPHY.

[_Quickly._] Ah, then she hasn't finished her business at Gressier's yet.

QUEX.

Yes, because I looked in at the shop on my way here.

SOPHY.

Funny. I can't imagine where she's taken herself to.

QUEX.

[_Earnestly._] Miss Fullgarney--

SOPHY.

My lord?

QUEX.

I thought we had become good friends, you and I--?

SOPHY.

So we have, I hope.

QUEX.

And that you were desirous of rendering me a service?

SOPHY.

Well, aren't I, my lord?

QUEX.

Are you? You _know_ that Miss Eden came to you directly she left Gressier's. You _know_ she did.

SOPHY.

[_After a pause--drawing a deep breath._] Yes, I--I own it.

QUEX.

[_Reproachfully._] Ah, Miss Fullgarney!

SOPHY.

She _has_ been in, and I _have_ done you the service I promised.

QUEX.

[_Calmly._] You have?

SOPHY.

Indeed I have, as true as I stand here. [_Steadying herself._] But the fact is--the fact is Miss Eden had a purchase to make that she didn't wish the ladies to interfere over, and--and she has run out for ten minutes. If your lordship must know where she is, she's in the Burlington.

QUEX.

[_Very quietly._] Oh, she has run out for a few minutes?

SOPHY.

She might be a quarter of an hour.

QUEX.

Not _run_ out; _flown_ out, at one of these windows.

SOPHY.

[_Faintly._] One of these windows?

QUEX.

[_Pointing to the entrance._] She has not gone out by the door.

SOPHY.

What do you mean?

QUEX.