SOPHY.

[_With an eye on the door._] Certainly not.

QUEX.

As you please. Miss Fullgarney--

SOPHY.

I hear you.

QUEX.

I should like to settle this business with you pleasantly--if possible.

Allow me to say this. I don't think I am quite such an atrocious person as you appear to believe; in fact I can a.s.sure you I am not.

SOPHY.

[_Gathering her robe about her and advancing a few steps._] You must excuse me, my lord, but--[_glancing round the room_] you evidently forget where you are.

QUEX.

No, I don't; but I tell you--I tell you sincerely--that my visit to her Grace to-night was an innocent one.

SOPHY.

[_Turning her head away, in great disdain._] Really!

QUEX.

Really. You won't accept money?

SOPHY.

No, indeed, I will not.

QUEX.

Very well. Ha! it's an odd att.i.tude for a man like myself to adopt towards--[_indicating_ SOPHY _by a motion of the hand._] But I make an appeal to you.

SOPHY.

[_Elevating her eyebrows._] Appeal?

QUEX.

[_With simple feeling and dignity._] I love Miss Eden. I would be a good husband to that young lady. Let me off.

SOPHY.

Let you off?

QUEX.

Don't tell on me. Don't try to rob me of Miss Eden. Let me off.

SOPHY.

I'm sorry to say I can't, my lord.

QUEX

You won't?

SOPHY.

I won't. [_With a slight inclination of the head_ QUEX _turns away and stands leaning against the settee with his back towards_ SOPHY. _The clock strikes the quarter-of-an-hour. There is a short silence._] If your lordship has quite done with me--? [_He makes no response. She tosses her head._] I wish you good-night, my lord. [_She goes to the pa.s.sage-door and turns the handle._] It's locked. This door's locked.

[_Looking at him._] The door's locked. [_Rattling at the door-handle._]

Where's the key? [_Searching about on the floor near the door._] Where's the--? [_Coming forward a step or two._] Has your lordship got the key of this door? [_Still obtaining no answer, she stands staring at him for a moment; then she goes quickly to the other door and tries the handle.

As she does so,_ QUEX _turns sharply and, leaning upon the back of the settee, watches her. After shaking the door-handle vigorously, she wheels round and faces him, indignantly._] What's the meaning of this?

QUEX.

[_Grimly._] Ah!

SOPHY.

Oh--! [_She sweeps round to avoid him, and then runs into the bedroom.

When she has gone he seats himself in the chair by the writing-table in a lazy att.i.tude, his legs stretched out, his hands in his pockets. After a moment or two she returns breathlessly._] I'm locked in!

QUEX.

Yes.

SOPHY.

You have locked me in!

QUEX.

Yes.

SOPHY.

How dare you!

QUEX.

Why, you didn't think you were going to have it _all_ your own way, did you, Sophy?