[She walks feebly to the passage-door and stands rattling the handle in an uncertain way.  At last she breaks down and cries a little.

SOPHY.

Oh! oh! oh! let me go, my lord. [He makes no response.] Do let me go—­please! will you? [Approaching him and wiping her eyes upon the sleeve of her night-dress.] I hope your lordship will kindly let me go.

QUEX.

[Shortly.] No.

SOPHY.

[Steadying herself.] I don’t want to rouse the house at this time o’ night if I can help it—­

QUEX.

Don’t you?

SOPHY.

Though I am certain I can make my story good anyway.  But I’d rather your lordship let me out without the bother—­[Piteously.] Do! [He turns a leaf of his book.  She speaks defiantly.] Very well! very well! here I sit then! [Seating herself.] We’ll see who tires first, you or I! you or I! [Again snapping her fingers at him.] Bah! you horror! you—­horror!

QUEX.

[Raising himself on his elbow.] Will you have this sofa? [She gives him a fierce look.] A glass of your wine?

[She rises, with a stamp of the foot, and once more paces the room.  He sips his wine and re-settles himself.  She goes distractedly from one object to another, now leaning upon a chair, then against the pillar of the cheval-glass.  Ultimately she comes to the bell-rope and fingers it again irresolutely.

SOPHY.

[Faintly.] My lord—! [He remains silent.  She releases the bell-rope.] Oh—­h—­h! [She pauses by the settee, looking down upon him as though she would strike him; then she walks away, and, seating herself in the chair by the bedside, drops her head upon the bed.  The clock tinkles the half-hour.  There is a short silence.  Suddenly she rises, uttering a sharp cry, with her hand to her heart.] Oh! [panting] oh! oh!

QUEX.

[Looking at her.] What now?

SOPHY.

Valma!

QUEX.

Valma?

SOPHY.

Mr. Valma! oh, you know he is in the house!

QUEX.

He! what’s he doing here?

SOPHY.

The housekeeper gave him permission to sleep here.  You know! [Stamping her foot.] Don’t you know?

QUEX.

[Sitting up, alertly.] Ho! my jealous friend, the palmist. He is on the premises, hey?

SOPHY.

[Distractedly.] Let me out! oh, yes, he is jealous of me; he is jealous of me, and we’ve had a few words about you as it is—­

QUEX.

Ah!

SOPHY.

Oh, this would ruin me with Valma! oh, if your lordship hasn’t any feeling for me, don’t let Valma think that I’m a—­that I’m—! [Going down on her knees before him.] Oh, I won’t tell on you!  I promise I won’t, if you’ll only let me go!  I will hold my tongue about you and the Duchess!  I take my solemn oath I’ll hold my tongue!