Jill.  Yes; and it isn’t—­that’s splendid!  You’d be able to put such conviction into it.  Don’t you think so, Dodo?

Hillcrist. Anything I can.  I’m deeply sorry.

Chloe.  Thank you.  And don’t say I’ve been here, will you?  He’s very suspicious.  You see, he knows that his father has re-sold that land to you; that’s what he can’t make out—­that, and my coming here this morning; he knows something’s being kept from him; and he noticed that man with Dawker yesterday.  And my maid’s been spying on me.  It’s in the air.  He puts two and two together.  But I’ve told him there’s nothing he need worry about; nothing that’s true.

Hillcrist. What a coil!

Chloe.  I’m very honest and careful about money.  So he won’t believe that about me, and the old man wants to keep it from Charlie, I know.

Hillcrist. That does seem the best way out.

Chloe. [With a touch of defiance] I’m a true wife to him.

Chloe.  Of course we know that.

Hillcrist. It’s all unspeakably sad.  Deception’s horribly against the grain—­but——­

Chloe. [Eagerly] When I deceived him, I’d have deceived God Himself—­I was so desperate.  You’ve never been right down in the mud.  You can’t understand what I’ve been through.

Hillcrist. Yes, Yes.  I daresay I’d have done the same.  I should be the last to judge.

     [Chloe covers her eyes with her hands.]

There, there!  Cheer up! [He puts his hand on her arm.]

Chloe. [To herself] Darling Dodo!

Chloe. [Starting] There’s somebody at the door.  I must go; I must go.

     [She runs to the window and slips through the curtains.]

     [The handle of the door is again turned.]

Jill. [Dismayed] Oh!  It’s locked—­I forgot.

     [She spring to the door, unlocks and opens it, while Hillcrist
     goes to the bureau and sits down.]

It’s all right, Fellows; I was only saying something rather important.

Fellows. [Coming in a step or two and closing the door behind him] Certainly, Miss.  Mr. Charles ’Ornblower is in the hall.  Wants to see you, sir, or Mrs. Hillcrist.

Jill.  What a bore!  Can you see him, Dodo?

Hillcrist. Er—­yes.  I suppose so.  Show him in here, Fellows.

[As fellows goes out, Jill runs to the window, but has no time to do more than adjust the curtains and spring over to stand by her father, before Charles comes in.  Though in evening clothes, he is white and disheveled for so spruce a young mean.]

Charles.  Is my wife here?

Hillcrist. No, sir.

Charles.  Has she been?

Hillcrist. This morning, I believe, Jill?