St. Olpherts. [By the settee—­playfully, through his pain] Ah, my dear Mrs. Ebbsmith, how can you have the heart to deceive an invalid, a poor wretch who begs you—­[sitting on the settee] to allow him to sit down for a moment? [Agnes deposits the hat and coat.]

Agnes.  Deceive—?

St. Olpherts.  My friends arrive, I dine scrappily with them, and hurry to the Grunwald thinking to catch you over your Zabajone.  Dear lady, you haven’t been near the Grunwald.

Agnes.  Your women faint sometimes, don’t they?

St. Olpherts.  My—? [In pain.] Oh, what do you mean?

Agnes.  The women in your class of life?

St. Olpherts.  Faint?  Oh yes, when there’s occasion for it.

Agnes.  I’m hopelessly low-born; I fainted involuntarily.

St. Olpherts. [Moving closer to her.] Oh, my dear, pray forgive me.  You’ve recovered? [She nods.] Indisposition agrees with you, evidently.  Your colouring tonight is charming. [Coughing.] You are—­delightful—­ to—­look at.

[Gertrude enters, carrying a tray on which are a bowl of soup, a small decanter of wine, and accessories.  She looks at st. Olpherts unconcernedly, then turns away and places the tray on a table.]

St. Olpherts. [Quietly to Agnes.] Not a servant?

Agnes, Oh, no.

St. Olpherts. [Rising promptly.] Good God!  I beg your pardon.  A friend?

Agnes.  Yes.

St. Olpherts. [Looking at Gertrude, critically.] Very nice. [Still looking at Gertrude, but speaking to Agnes in undertones.] Married or—? [Turning to Agnes.] Married or—?

Gertrude. [To Lucas, looking around.] It is draughty at this table.

Lucas. [Going to the table near the settee, and collecting the writing materials.] Here—­[Agnes joins Gertrude.]

St. Olpherts. [Quietly to Lucas.] Lucas—­[Lucas goes to him.] Who’s that gal?

Lucas. [To st. Olpherts.] An hotel acquaintance we made in Florence—­ Mrs Thorpe.

St. Olpherts.  Where’s the husband?

Lucas.  A widow.

St. Olpherts.  You might—­[Gertrude advances with the tray.]

Lucas.  Mrs. Thorpe, the Duke of St. Olpherts wishes to be introduced to you. [Gertrude inclines her head to the Duke.  Lucas places the writing materials on another table.]

St. Olpherts. [Limping up to Gertrude and handling the tray.] I beg to be allowed to help you. [At the table.] The tray here?

Gertrude.  Thank you.

St. Olpherts.  Oh, how clumsy I am!  We think it so gracious of you to look after our poor friend here who is not quite herself today. [To Agnes.] Come along, dear lady—­everything is prepared for you. [To Gertrude.] You are here with—­your mother, I understand.