SOPHY.

Mayn’t I?

MURIEL.

[Yielding the paper impulsively.] Yes, you may.

[MURIEL turns away and stands leaning upon the back of the screen-chair on the left, with her face in her hands. SOPHY places the jeweller’s case upon the circular table.

SOPHY.

[Reading with difficulty.] “To Napier from Muriel.  I only—­” what?  You have blotted it.

MURIEL.

[With a sob.] Have I?

SOPHY.

You’ve been crying over it.

MURIEL.

Yes.

SOPHY.

“I only—­” I can’t read it.

MURIEL.

[Through her tears.]

    “I only know—­we loved in vain: 
    I only feel—­Farewell!—­Farewell!”

SOPHY.

[In a low voice.] Very nice, darling. [She lays the paper tenderly upon the box and goes to MURIEL. Eyeing her keenly.] You really are determined, then, to wish him good-bye?

MURIEL.

[Turning to her and weeping upon her shoulder.] Oh, Sophy!  Sophy!

SOPHY.

There, there! it’ll soon be over.

MURIEL.

[Raising her head.] Over! yes, yes! over!

SOPHY.

And—­p’r’aps it’s all for the best, you know.

MURIEL.

For the best!

SOPHY.

What I mean is, that very likely we’ve both of us been a little cruel to poor Lord Quex—­hard on him—­

MURIEL.

[Indignantly.] You say this to me! [Distractedly.] You say this, after having poisoned my mind and given me an awful night of sleeplessness and doubt.  Yesterday I was as firm as a rock; to-day I’m as weak as water again. [Facing SOPHY with flashing eyes.] Ah, I tell you honestly you’d better not let me meet Captain Bastling this morning! you’d better not let me see him!

[The door-gong sounds. BASTLING appears at the window, and looks into the room.

SOPHY.

[Whose back is towards the window, soothingly.] No, no, you sha’n’t go across to Valma’s while you’re like this.  I’ll make an excuse for you to Captain Bastling—­

BASTLING.

[At the window.] Muriel!

MURIEL.

[Passing SOPHY swiftly.] Napier!

SOPHY.

[Holding her arm.] Darling—­

MURIEL.

[Freeing herself.] Release me, Sophy! release me! ah—!

[She joins BASTLING and they disappear.  As SOPHY goes to the window and looks out after them, QUEX enters, followed by FRAYNE.

QUEX.

[Glancing round the room.] Miss Fullgarney—­

SOPHY.

[Turning sharply.] Hey? [Blankly.] Oh—­my lord—!

QUEX.