The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith Part 22

OLPHERTS instinctively looks round, then goes and sits by the window.]

LUCAS. [Looking at her searchingly.] Well, but--you--?

AGNES. [With a.s.sumed indifference.] Oh, I--

LUCAS. You?

AGNES. Lucas, don't--don't make me paramount. [He moves to the end of the settee, showing by a look that he desires her to sit by him. After a moment's hesitation she takes her place beside him.]

LUCAS. [In an undertone.] I do make you paramount. I do. My dear girl, under any circ.u.mstances you would still be everything to me--always.

[She nods with a vacant look.] There would have to be this pretence of an establishment of mine--that would have to be faced; the whited sepulchre, the mockery of dinners and receptions and so on. But it would be to you I should fly for sympathy, encouragement, rest.

AGNES. Even if you were ill again--

LUCAS. Even then, if it were practicable--if it could be--if it--

AGNES. [Looking him in the face.] Well--?

LUCAS. [Avoiding her gaze.] Yes, dear?

AGNES. What do you say, then, to asking the Duke to give you back that letter to your brother?

LUCAS. It wouldn't settle matters, simply destroying that letter.

Sandford begs me to go round to the Danieli tonight, to--to--

AGNES. To see him? [LUCAS nods.] And her? [He shrugs his shoulders.] At what time? Was any time specified?

LUCAS. Half-past nine.

AGNES. I--I haven't my watch on.

LUCAS. [Referring to his watch.] Nine twenty-five.

AGNES. You can almost manage it--if you'd like to go.

LUCAS. Oh, let them wait a few minutes for me; that won't hurt them.

AGNES. [Dazed.] Let me see--I did fetch your hat and coat--[She rises and walks mechanically, stumbling against a chair. LUCAS looks up, alarmed; ST. OLPHERTS rises.]

AGNES. [Replacing the chair.] It's all right; I didn't notice this.

[Bringing LUCAS'S hat and coat, and a.s.sisting him with the latter.] How long will you be?

LUCAS. Not more than half an hour. An hour at the outside.

AGNES. [Arranging his neck handkerchief.] Keep this so.

LUCAS. Er--if--if I--if we--

AGNES. The Duke is waiting. [LUCAS turns away, and joins ST. OLPHERTS.]

LUCAS. [To him, in a low voice.] I am going back to the hotel with you.

ST. OLPHERTS. Oh, are you? [The door opens and FORTUNE enters, followed by AMOS WINTERFIELD. FORTUNE retires.]

AMOS. [To LUCAS, sternly.] Is my sister still here, may I ask? [LUCAS looks to AGNES interrogatively. She inclines her head.]

AMOS. I should like her to know that I am waiting for her. [AGNES goes out.]

LUCAS. [To AMOS.] Pray excuse me.

[AMOS draws back. ST. OLPHERTS pa.s.ses out. At the door, LUCAS pauses, and bows slightly to AMOS, who returns his bow in the same fashion; then LUCAS follows ST. OLPHERTS. GERTRUDE enters, wearing her hat and mantle. AGNES follows; her movements are unsteady, and there is a wild look in her eyes.]

GERTRUDE. You've come to fetch me, Amos? [He a.s.sents by a nod.]

AMOS. [To AGNES.] I'm sorry to learn from Dr. Kirke that you've been ill. I hope you're better.

AGNES. [Turning away, GERTRUDE watching her.] Thank you, I am quite well.

AMOS. [Gruffly.] Are you ready, Gertrude?

GERTRUDE. No, dear, not yet. I want you to help me.

AMOS. In what way?

GERTRUDE. I want you to join me in persuading Mrs. Ebbsmith--my friend, Mrs. Ebbsmith--to come to Ketherick with me.

AMOS. My dear sister--!

GERTRUDE. [Firmly.] Please, Amos!

AGNES. Stop a moment! Mr. Winterfield, your sister doesn't in the least understand how matters are with me. I am returning to England, but with Mr. Cleeve. [Recklessly.] Oh, you'd hear of it eventually! He is reconciled to his wife.

GERTRUDE. Oh--! Then, surely, you--!

AGNES. No. The reconciliation goes no further than mere outward appearances. He relies upon me as much as ever. [Beating her hands together pa.s.sionately.] He can't spare me--can't spare me!

AMOS. [In a low voice to GERTRUDE.] Are you satisfied?

GERTRUDE. I suspected something of the kind. [Going to AGNES, gripping her wrist tightly.] Pull yourself out of the mud! Get up out of the mud!

AGNES. I have no will to--no desire to!

GERTRUDE. You mad thing!

AGNES. [Releasing herself, facing GERTRUDE and AMOS.] You're only breaking in upon my hour.

GERTRUDE. Your hour--?

AGNES. [Waving them away.] I ask you to go--to go! [GERTRUDE returns to AMOS.]