Timson. [Mechanically.] Where to, sir?

     [Receiving no answer he passes out, touching his hat; and the
     door is closed.]

Wellwyn.  Ann!

     [Ann goes back whence she came.]

     [Bertley, steadily regarding Mrs. Megan, who has put her arm up
     in front of her face, beckons to Ferrand, and the young man
     comes gravely forward.]

Bertley.  Young people, this is very dreadful. [Mrs. Megan lowers her arm a little, and looks at him over it.] Very sad!

Mrs. Megan. [Dropping her arm.] Megan’s no better than what I am.

Bertley.  Come, come!  Here’s your home broken up! [Mrs. Megan Smiles.  Shaking his head gravely.] Surely-surely-you mustn’t smile. [Mrs. Megan becomes tragic.] That’s better.  Now, what is to be done?

Ferrand.  Believe me, Monsieur, I greatly regret.

Bertley.  I’m glad to hear it.

Ferrand.  If I had foreseen this disaster.

Bertley.  Is that your only reason for regret?

Ferrand. [With a little bow.] Any reason that you wish, Monsieur. 
I will do my possible.

Mrs. Megan.  I could get an unfurnished room if [she slides her eyes round at Wellwyn] I ’ad the money to furnish it.

Bertley.  But suppose I can induce your husband to forgive you, and take you back?

Mrs. Megan. [Shaking her head.] ’E’d ’it me.

Bertley.  I said to forgive.

Mrs. Megan.  That wouldn’t make no difference. [With a flash at
Bertley.] An’ I ain’t forgiven him!

Bertley.  That is sinful.

Mrs. Megan.  I’m a Catholic.

Bertley.  My good child, what difference does that make?

Ferrand.  Monsieur, if I might interpret for her.

     [Bertley silences him with a gesture.]

Mrs. Megan. [Sliding her eyes towards Wellwyn.] If I ’ad the money to buy some fresh stock.

Bertley.  Yes; yes; never mind the money.  What I want to find in you both, is repentance.

Mrs. Megan. [With a flash up at him.] I can’t get me livin’ off of repentin’.

Bertley.  Now, now!  Never say what you know to be wrong.

Ferrand.  Monsieur, her soul is very simple.

Bertley. [Severely.] I do not know, sir, that we shall get any great assistance from your views.  In fact, one thing is clear to me, she must discontinue your acquaintanceship at once.

Ferrand.  Certainly, Monsieur.  We have no serious intentions.

Bertley.  All the more shame to you, then!