[_Unsteadily._] Whatever are you saying, my lord? [_Discovering that he has the jeweller's case and the paper._] Ah--!

QUEX.

Yes, I found these upon the table. [_She advances, to take them from him._] Miss Eden left them here--forgot them!

SOPHY.

[_In a murmur._] Yes.

[_He gives them to her. She puts them into her pocket and sits._

QUEX.

Come! tell me.

SOPHY.

You--you are not the only one in the field, my lord.

QUEX.

So I conclude.

SOPHY.

Have pity on her!

QUEX.

[_Sternly._] How dare you!

SOPHY.

It's more my fault than hers.

QUEX.

Continue.

SOPHY.

She has wanted to stop it, hating herself for being deceitful, but I--I've encouraged her, egged her on.

QUEX.

Yes.

SOPHY.

They've been in the habit of meeting here at my place.

QUEX.

[_Again pointing to the window._] In this fellow's rooms--Mr. Valma's--

SOPHY.

[_Rising._] No, no. They've never met there, till this morning. But he--young Bastling--he's going away, abroad, in a fortnight or so, and he wished to say good-bye to her quietly.

QUEX.

[_Turning towards the window fiercely._] Ah--!

SOPHY.

[_Laying her hand upon his arm._] Be careful, my lord!

QUEX.

[_Looking at her._] Careful?

SOPHY.

[_Significantly._] I know how she feels to-day. If you _want_ to send her to Hong-Kong with Captain Bastling--

[QUEX _hesitates for a moment, then crosses to_ FRAYNE, _to whom he speaks apart._

QUEX.

Chick! how shall I act?

FRAYNE.

[_Dismally._] Dear old chap, to be quite honest with you, I was not wholly captivated by Miss Eden when you presented me yesterday.

QUEX.

Tshah! What shall I do? wait?

FRAYNE.

In any event, of course, the man's head has to be punched. But it might be wise to delay doing it until--

QUEX.

[_To_ SOPHY.] You spoke, a little while ago, of giving me "a chance." I see now what was in your mind. There's a risk, then, that this good-bye may not be final?

SOPHY.