LADY TORMINSTER.  Ah, the future!  Strange little syllables that hide so much!  I can see you, introducing your wife to me, a little shyly—­I can see myself, shaking hands with her—­and with you....  My boy is seven already—­time travels fast....  But it’s good to know that you really have loved me, all these years....

SIR GEOFFREY.  By day and by night—­you, and only you!

LADY TORMINSTER.  And I have loved you—­ah, yes, I have loved you!...  And, having said this to each other, we will not meet again—­till you bring me your wife.

SIR GEOFFREY.  Ah—­then!

LADY TORMINSTER.  I have loved you, and I love you, for the fine, upright, loyal creature that you are.  I love you for loving Jack; and it is Jack’s great quality in my eyes that he has been able to inspire such love.  And, my dear friend, let us not be ashamed, we two, but only very proud, and very happy.  We shall go our ways, and do our duty; but we shall never forget this talk we have had to-night.

SIR GEOFFREY. [Gently.] I am beginning to understand....

LADY TORMINSTER.  You will be less lonely in future ... and I no longer afraid of the stars....  Brave heart—­oh, brave little heart that I for a moment have held in my hands!

SIR GEOFFREY. [With a passionate movement towards her.] Gertrude!

LADY TORMINSTER. [Lifting a finger.] No—­stay where you are....  Those are the first rays of dawn—­I must go....  Good-bye.  We have no need to shake hands, you and I....  Ah, Geoffrey—­good-bye!

     [She goes swiftly, and closes the door.  He bends his head, and
     remains standing, motionless, by the table.

CURTAIN

THE BRACELET

A PLAY IN ONE ACT

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

HARVEY WESTERN
HIS HONOUR JUDGE BANKET
MARTIN
WILLIAM
MRS. WESTERN
MRS. BANKET
MISS FARREN
SMITHERS

TIME—­The present

Produced at the Liverpool Repertory Theatre on Feb. 26, 1912

THE BRACELET

The dining-room in an upper middle-class house near the Park.  It
     is furnished in the conventional modern style, soberly and
     without imagination.  The room is on the ground floor, facing the
     street, the door is to the right, and leads into the hall.  To the
     left of this door is a sideboard, glittering with silver.  Three
     tall windows, at the back heavily curtained; between them hang
     two or three family portraits.  The table, on which there is the
     usual debris of a meal that is over—­coffee-cups,
     liqueur-glasses, etc.—­has been laid for four persons, and their
     four chairs are still around it.  The fireplace, with its rather