WALTER.  It’s not for her money that I—­

BETTY. [With a start.] You love her?

WALTER. [Dropping his head, and speaking under his breath.] Yes.

BETTY. [Wringing her hands.] You do, you do?

WALTER.  Yes, that’s the truth—­I do.  Oh, Betty I’m so frightfully sorry—­

BETTY. [With a groan.] Then you don’t love me any more ...

WALTER.  It’s not that.  But you see—­

BETTY. [Moaning.] You don’t, you don’t!

     [She stands there, crushed, overwhelmed, dry-eyed, broken moans
     escaping from her; suddenly she hears a key turning in the lock
     of the hall-door outside, and rushes to the card-table.

BETTY.  Hector!  Quick, quick—­the cards!

[WALTER flies to the table, and sits by her side.  He seizes one pack and proceeds to shuffle it, she is dealing with the other.  All this takes only a second. HECTOR comes in—­they both spring up.

BETTY.  Hector!  You’re not ill?

HECTOR. [Kissing her.] Play postponed, my child—­bit of luck!  When I got to the theatre I found that the actor-manager’s car had collided with a cab outside the stage-door—­he was thrown through the window—­there’s a magnificent exit for you! and has been cut about a bit.  Nothing serious.  But the play’s postponed for a week.  Bit of luck!

WALTER. [Sitting.] Not for him.

HECTOR.  Oh he has had luck enough—­tons of it!  I’ll get into a jacket—­then we’ll have some bridge.  See what progress you’ve made, Betty!

     [He hurries out, and closes the door.

BETTY. [Producing a little mirror from her bag, looking into it, touching her hair.] We were only just in time.

WALTER. [Eagerly, as he bends across the table.] You’re splendid—­you are—­splendid!

BETTY.  Yes.  All very nice and comfortable for you—­isn’t it? [She puts the mirror back into the bag.]

WALTER. [Coaxingly.] Betty.

BETTY.  To-morrow you’ll go to her—­or to-night perhaps—­

WALTER.  To-night—­ridiculous!  At this hour!

BETTY.  She’s a deceitful little cat.  I saw her last week—­she never told me—­

WALTER.  I don’t think she knew.  I only proposed to-day.

BETTY. [Flinging herself back in her chair, and opening wide eyes.]
You—­proposed—­to-day!

WALTER. [Very embarrassed.] Yes—­I mean—­

BETTY.  You—­proposed—­to-day!  And waited till she had accepted you—­to tell me—­

WALTER. [Eagerly.] Don’t be so silly—­come, come, he’ll be back in a minute....  And, believe me, I’m not worth making a fuss about!

BETTY. [Looking contemptuously at him.] That’s true.

WALTER.  Yes, it is, worse luck!  I deserve all you’ve said to me.  And you’ll be ... much better ... without me.