KATE (standing up).  I’m not sure, Cyril.

NORWOOD.  What d’you mean?

KATE.  He expects me to wait for him.

NORWOOD.  If it comes to that, he expected you to wait for him four years ago.

KATE.  Yes. . . . (Quietly) Thank you for reminding me.

NORWOOD.  Kate, don’t be stupid.  What’s happened to you?  Of course, I know it’s been beastly upsetting for you, all this—­but then, why do you want to go on with it?  Why do you want more upsetting scenes?

You’ve got a chance now of getting out of it all, and—­(He looks at his watch) Good Lord!

KATE.  Is the five minutes over?

NORWOOD.  Quick, quick! (He puts his fingers to his lips) Quietly. (He walks on tiptoe to the door.)

KATE.  Cyril!

NORWOOD.  H’sh!

KATE (sitting down again).  It’s no good, Cyril, I must wait for him.

(The door opens, and NORWOOD starts back quickly as DENNIS comes in.)

DENNIS (looking at his watch).  Innings declared closed. (to NORWOOD) The dining-room is nicely warmed now, and I’ve left you an evening paper.

NORWOOD (going to KATE).  Look here, Mr. Camberley, Kate and I—­

DENNIS.  Mrs. Camberley, no doubt, will tell me.

(He holds the door open and waits politely for NORWOOD to go.)

NORWOOD.  I don’t know what your game is—­

DENNIS.  You’ve never been in Mesopotamia, Mr. Norwood?

NORWOOD.  Never.

DENNIS.  It’s a very trying place for the temper. . . .  I’m waiting for you.

NORWOOD (irresolute).  Well, I——­ (He comes sulkily to the door) Well,
I shall come back for Kate in five minutes.

DENNIS.  Mrs. Camberley and I will be ready for you.  You know your way?

    [NORWOOD goes out.

(DENNIS shuts the door.  He comes into the room and stands looking at
KATE.)

KATE (uncomfortably).  Well?

DENNIS.  No, don’t move.  I just want to look at you. . . .  I’ve seen you like that for four years.  Don’t move. . . .  I’ve been in some dreary places, but you’ve been with me most of the time.  Just let’s have a last look.

KATE.  A last look?

DENNIS.  Yes.

KATE.  You’re saying good-bye to me?

DENNIS.  I don’t know whether it’s to you, Kate.  To the girl who has been with me these last four years.  Was that you?

KATE (dropping her eyes).  I don’t know, Dennis.

DENNIS.  I wish to God I wasn’t your husband.

KATE.  What would you do if you weren’t my husband?

DENNIS.  Make love to you.

KATE.  Can’t you do that now?

DENNIS.  Being your husband rather handicaps me, you know.  I never really stood a chance against the other fellow.

KATE.  I was to choose between you, you said.  You think that I have already made up my mind?

DENNIS (smiling).  I think so.