FRANCES. Oh, my dear ... what is wrong?

TREBELL. The message hasn't come ... and I've been thinking.

FRANCES. Why don't you tell me? [_He turns his head away._] I think you haven't the right to torture me.

TREBELL. Your sympathy would only blind me towards the facts I want to face.

SIMPSON, _the maid, undisturbed in her routine, brings in the morning's letters._ FRANCES _rounds on her irritably._

FRANCES. What is it, Simpson?

MAID. The letters, Ma'am.

TREBELL _is on his feet at that._

TREBELL. Ah ... I want them.

FRANCES. [_Taking the letters composedly enough._] Thank you.

SIMPSON _departs and_ TREBELL _comes to her for his letters. She looks at him with baffled affection._

FRANCES. Can I do nothing? Oh, Henry!

TREBELL. Help me to open my letters.

FRANCES. Don't you leave them to Mr. Kent?

TREBELL. Not this morning.

FRANCES. But there are so many.

TREBELL. [_For the first time lifting his voice from its dull monotony._]

What a busy man I was.

FRANCES. Henry ... you're a little mad.

TREBELL. Do you find me so? That's interesting.

FRANCES. [_With the ghost of a smile._] Well ... maddening.

_By this time he is sitting at his table; she near him watching closely. They halve the considerable post and start to open it._

TREBELL. We arrange them in three piles ... personal ... political ... and preposterous.

FRANCES. This is an invitation ... the Anglican League.

TREBELL. I can't go.

_She looks sideways at him, as he goes on mechanically tearing the envelopes._

FRANCES. I heard you come upstairs about two o'clock.

TREBELL. That was to dip my head in water. Then I made an instinctive attempt to go to bed ... got my tie off even.

FRANCES. [_Her anxiety breaking out._] If you'd tell me that you're only ill....

TREBELL. [_Forbiddingly commonplace._] What's that letter? Don't fuss ...

and remember that abnormal conduct is sometimes quite rational.

FRANCES _returns to her task with misty eyes._

FRANCES. It's from somebody whose son can't get into something.

TREBELL. The third heap ... Kent's ... the preposterous. [_Talking on with steady monotony._] But I saw it would not do to interrupt that logical train of thought which reached definition about half past six. I had then been gleaning until you came in.

FRANCES. [_Turning the neat little note in her hand._] This is from Lord Horsham. He writes his name small at the bottom of the envelope.

TREBELL. [_Without a tremor._] Ah ... give it me.

_He opens this as he has opened the others, carefully putting the envelope to one side._ FRANCES _has ceased for the moment to watch him._

FRANCES. That's Cousin Robert's handwriting. [_She puts a square envelope at his hand._] Is a letter marked private from the Education Office political or personal?

_By this he has read_ HORSHAM'S _letter twice. So he tears it up and speaks very coldly._

TREBELL. Either. It doesn't matter.

_In the silence her fears return._

FRANCES. Henry, it's a foolish idea ... I suppose I have it because I hardly slept for thinking of her. Your trouble is nothing to do with Amy O'Connell, is it?

TREBELL. [_His voice strangled in his throat._] Her child should have been my child too.

FRANCES. [_Her eyes open, the whole landscape of her mind suddenly clear._]

Oh, I ... no, I didn't think so ... but....

TREBELL. [_Dealing his second blow as remorselessly as dealt to him._] Also I'm not joining the new Cabinet, my dear sister.

FRANCES. [_Her thoughts rushing now to the present--the future._] Not!

Because of...? Do people know? Will they...? You didn't...?

_As mechanically as ever he has taken up_ COUSIN ROBERT'S _letter and, in some sense, read it. Now he recapitulates, meaninglessly, that his voice may just deaden her pain and his own._

TREBELL. Robert says ... that we've not been to see them for some time ...

but that now I'm a greater man than ever I must be very busy. The vicarage has been painted and papered throughout and looks much fresher. Mary sends you her love and hopes you have no return of the rheumatism. And he would like to send me the proof sheets of his critical commentary on First Timothy ... for my alien eye might possibly detect some logical lapses. Need he repeat to me his thankfulness at my new att.i.tude upon Disestablishment ...

or a.s.sure me again that I have his prayers. Could we not go and stay there only for a few days? Possibly his opinion--

_She has borne this cruel kindness as long as she can and she breaks out...._