SOPHY.

This sort of game?

POLLITT.

Other Professors have stooped to it, but I—­oh, no, it is playing palmistry a little bit too low down.

SOPHY.

[Unhappily.] Surely it’s quite harmless, love—­a couple of young people meeting to say good-bye.

POLLITT.

From what you’ve told me, I greatly doubt that it will be good-bye.

SOPHY.

D—­d—­do you?

POLLITT.

[Hotly.] Anyhow I resent your being the go-between of this gallant captain and a girl betrothed to another man—­you who are naturally such a thorough lady!

SOPHY.

Oh—­oh, Valma—!

[She drops her head upon his shoulder and whimpers.

POLLITT.

Dearest, what have I said?

SOPHY.

Valma, I’ve made up my mind.  I intend to do exactly what you wish, in the future, in everything.  I’m going to give up squatting down here manicuring gentlemen—­

POLLITT.

Sophy!

SOPHY.

And shall simply sail about these rooms, overlooking my girls in the plainest of silks.  And never again will I interfere in an underhand way in other people’s affairs on any account whatever. [Putting her arms round his neck.] Yes, you shall find me a lady—­a lady—­

POLLITT.

[Tenderly.] Ah—! [The door-gong sounds.  She raises her head and dries her eyes hurriedly.] Is that Miss Eden?

[He crosses to the window as she goes to the entrance. MISS LIMBIRD appears.

MISS LIMBIRD.

[To SOPHY.] Here’s Miss Eden.

SOPHY.

[With a nod.] Give me half a minute with her; then I’m at liberty. [MISS LIMBIRD disappears. SOPHY comes to POLLITT.] I’ll send Muriel across directly.

[He departs. MISS LIMBIRD returns and, holding the portiere aside, admits MURIEL.  MURIEL is wearing a veil. MISS LIMBIRD withdraws. SOPHY meets MURIEL; they kiss each other undemonstratively.

SOPHY.

[Constrainedly.] Well, darling?

MURIEL.

[In the same way.] Well, Sophy?

SOPHY.

You’re here then?

MURIEL.

As you see.

SOPHY.

Any difficulty?

MURIEL.

[In a hard voice.] No.  The Duchess and Mrs. Jack were coming to town shopping, and Lady Owbridge proposed that she and I should tack ourselves on to them.

SOPHY.

How have you got rid of ’em?

MURIEL.

Spoken the truth, for once—­my head really does throb terribly.  They think I’ve run in here to sit quietly with you while they—­[Suddenly.] Oh, be quick, Sophy!

SOPHY.

Quick, dear?

MURIEL.

Why don’t you tell me?