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[_Unsteadily._] Whatever are you saying, my lord? [_Discovering that he has the jeweller's case and the paper._] Ah--!
QUEX.
Yes, I found these upon the table. [_She advances, to take them from him._] Miss Eden left them here--forgot them!
SOPHY.
[_In a murmur._] Yes.
[_He gives them to her. She puts them into her pocket and sits._
QUEX.
Come! tell me.
SOPHY.
You--you are not the only one in the field, my lord.
QUEX.
So I conclude.
SOPHY.
Have pity on her!
QUEX.
[_Sternly._] How dare you!
SOPHY.
It's more my fault than hers.
QUEX.
Continue.
SOPHY.
She has wanted to stop it, hating herself for being deceitful, but I--I've encouraged her, egged her on.
QUEX.
Yes.
SOPHY.
They've been in the habit of meeting here at my place.
QUEX.
[_Again pointing to the window._] In this fellow's rooms--Mr. Valma's--
SOPHY.
[_Rising._] No, no. They've never met there, till this morning. But he--young Bastling--he's going away, abroad, in a fortnight or so, and he wished to say good-bye to her quietly.
QUEX.
[_Turning towards the window fiercely._] Ah--!
SOPHY.
[_Laying her hand upon his arm._] Be careful, my lord!
QUEX.
[_Looking at her._] Careful?
SOPHY.
[_Significantly._] I know how she feels to-day. If you _want_ to send her to Hong-Kong with Captain Bastling--
[QUEX _hesitates for a moment, then crosses to_ FRAYNE, _to whom he speaks apart._
QUEX.
Chick! how shall I act?
FRAYNE.
[_Dismally._] Dear old chap, to be quite honest with you, I was not wholly captivated by Miss Eden when you presented me yesterday.
QUEX.
Tshah! What shall I do? wait?
FRAYNE.
In any event, of course, the man's head has to be punched. But it might be wise to delay doing it until--
QUEX.
[_To_ SOPHY.] You spoke, a little while ago, of giving me "a chance." I see now what was in your mind. There's a risk, then, that this good-bye may not be final?
SOPHY.
