DUCHESS.

Behind the hedge!

QUEX.

She had previously done her best to make an ass of me, while you were dressing for dinner—! [Looking towards the passage-door.] Where do you say her room is?

DUCHESS.

At the end of that passage. [They rise together, with very little movement.] Oh, but she is in bed, and asleep!

QUEX.

Is she?

DUCHESS.

Harry!

QUEX.

Wait—! [He goes to the door, and examines the key-hole.  Then he turns to the DUCHESS and beckons to her.  She joins him.  He says, in a whisper, pointing to the key-hole.] Do you notice—?

DUCHESS.

What?

QUEX.

The key is in the lock horizontally.

DUCHESS.

She may have been peeping at us? [He nods.  She is sick at the thought.] How inexcusably careless of me!

QUEX.

[At her elbow.] Listen.  I’ll keep out of sight.  Open the door boldly and walk along the passage.  See if there is any sign of movement—­

DUCHESS.

Yes, yes. [Steadying herself.] Perhaps we are disturbing ourselves unnecessarily.

QUEX.

[Nodding reassuringly.] Perhaps so.

[He draws back into the bedroom, but so that he can put his head out at the opening, and watch the DUCHESS’S proceedings.  She goes to the door and lays her hand upon the key.

DUCHESS.

[Faltering.] Oh! oh, great heavens!

QUEX.

[Encouragingly.] It’s all right—­it’s all right.  Very likely I am mistaken.  Now!

[The DUCHESS opens the door suddenly, and SOPHY, who is kneeling at the key-hole, lurches forward.

DUCHESS.

Ah!

[SOPHY, enveloped in the Mandarin’s robe, gathers herself up and, without a word, flies away along the passage.  The DUCHESS shuts the door and walks unsteadily to the settee. QUEX comes down, his mouth set hard.

QUEX.

I was sure of it.

DUCHESS.

[Aghast.] What will she do? will she tell?

QUEX.

Yes—­she’ll tell.

DUCHESS.

Why do you speak so positively?

QUEX.

She is in Miss Eden’s confidence—­the trull.  And she has always shown her teeth at me, now I remember. [Drawing a deep breath.] Oh, yes, I see—­Miss Fullgarney has meant mischief throughout.

DUCHESS.

[Sinking upon the settee.] Oh!

QUEX.

[Quietly.] Well—­I’m done.

DUCHESS.

Oh, my reputation!

QUEX.

I’m—­done.

DUCHESS.

My reputation!  I have never ceased to guard that, as you know.

QUEX.

I’ve lost her.