St. Olpherts.  Er—­impossible.  Some—­friends of mine may arrive tonight. [Lucas goes out.] I am more than sorry.

Agnes. [Mockingly.] Really?  You are sure you are not shy of being seen with a notorious woman?

St. Olpherts.  My dear Mrs. Ebbsmith—!

Agnes.  No, I forget—­that would be unlike you.  Mad people scare you, perhaps?

St. Olpherts.  Ha, ha!  Don’t be too rough.

Agnes.  Come, Duke, confess—­isn’t there more sanity in me than you suspected?

St. Olpherts. [In a low voice, eyeing her.] Much more.  I think you are very clever.

[Lucas quietly re-enters the room; he halts upon seeing that st. Olpherts still lingers.]

St. Olpherts. [With a wave of the hand to Lucas.] Just off, dear fellow. [He offers his hand to Agnes; she quickly places hers behind her back.] You—­you are charming. [He walks to the door, then looks round at the pair.] Au’voir! [St. Olpherts goes out.]

Agnes.  Au’voir! [Her hand drooping suddenly, her voice hard and dull.] You had better take me to Fulici’s before we dine, and buy me some gloves.

Lucas. [Coming to her, and seizing her hand.] Agnes dear!

Agnes. [Releasing herself and sitting with a heavy, almost sullen, look upon her face.] Are you satisfied?

Lucas. [By her side.] You have delighted me!  How sweet you look—­

Agnes.  Ah—!

Lucas.  You shall have twenty new gowns now; you shall see the women envying you, the men envying me.  Ah, ha!  Fifty new gowns!  You will wear them?

Agnes.  Yes.

Lucas.  Why, what has brought about this change in you?

Agnes.  What!

Lucas.  What?

Agnes.  I know.

Lucas.  You know?

Agnes.  Exactly how you regard me.

Lucas.  I don’t understand you.

Agnes.  Listen.  Long ago, in Florence, I began to suspect that we had made a mistake, Lucas.  Even there I began to suspect that your nature was not one to allow you to go through life sternly, severely, looking upon me more and more each day as a fellow worker and less and less as —­a woman.  I suspected this—­oh, proved it!—­but still made myself believe that this companionship of ours would gradually become, in a sense, colder—­more temperate, more impassive. [Beating her brow.] Never! never!  Oh, a few minutes ago this man, who means to part us if he can, drew your character, disposition, in a dozen words.

Lucas.  You believe him!  You credit what he says of me!

Agnes.  I declared it to be untrue.  Oh, but—­

Lucas.  But—­but—­

Agnes. [Rising, seizing his arm.] The picture he paints of you is not wholly a false one.  Sssh!  Lucas.  Hark!  Attend to me!  I resign myself to it all!  Dear, I must resign myself to it!