Gregory.  Nothing.

Mrs. Juno.  Nothing! [Rising anxiously].  Nonsense:  you’re ill.

Gregory.  No.  It was something about your late husband—­

Mrs. Juno.  My late husband!  What do you mean? [clutching him, horror-stricken].  Don’t tell me he’s dead.

Gregory [rising, equally appalled].  Don’t tell me he’s alive.

Mrs. Juno.  Oh, don’t frighten me like this.  Of course he’s alive—­unless you’ve heard anything.

Gregory.  The first day we met—­on the boat—­you spoke to me of your poor dear husband.

Mrs. Juno [releasing him, quite reassured].  Is that all?

Gregory.  Well, afterwards you called him poor Tops.  Always poor Tops, Our poor dear Tops.  What could I think?

Mrs. Juno [sitting down again].  I wish you hadn’t given me such a shock about him; for I haven’t been treating him at all well.  Neither have you.

Gregory [relapsing into his seat, overwhelmed].  And you mean to tell me you’re not a widow!

Mrs. Juno.  Gracious, no!  I’m not in black.

Gregory.  Then I have been behaving like a blackguard.  I have broken my promise to my mother.  I shall never have an easy conscience again.

Mrs. Juno.  I’m sorry.  I thought you knew.

Gregory.  You thought I was a libertine?

Mrs. Juno.  No:  of course I shouldn’t have spoken to you if I had thought that.  I thought you liked me, but that you knew, and would be good.

Gregory [stretching his hands towards her breast].  I thought the burden of being good had fallen from my soul at last.  I saw nothing there but a bosom to rest on:  the bosom of a lovely woman of whom I could dream without guilt.  What do I see now?

Mrs. Juno.  Just what you saw before.

Gregory [despairingly].  No, no.

Mrs. Juno.  What else?

Gregory.  Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted:  Trespassers Will Be
Prosecuted.

Mrs. Juno.  They won’t if they hold their tongues.  Don’t be such a coward.  My husband won’t eat you.

Gregory.  I’m not afraid of your husband.  I’m afraid of my conscience.

Mrs. Juno [losing patience].  Well!  I don’t consider myself at all a badly behaved woman; for nothing has passed between us that was not perfectly nice and friendly; but really! to hear a grown-up man talking about promises to his mother!

Gregory [interrupting her].  Yes, Yes:  I know all about that.  It’s not romantic:  it’s not Don Juan:  it’s not advanced; but we feel it all the same.  It’s far deeper in our blood and bones than all the romantic stuff.  My father got into a scandal once:  that was why my mother made me promise never to make love to a married woman.  And now I’ve done it I can’t feel honest.  Don’t pretend to despise me or laugh at me.  You feel it too.  You said just now that your own conscience was uneasy when you thought of your husband.  What must it be when you think of my wife?