Dancy comes in.

Dancy. [With a smile] Very good of you to have come.

Margaret.  Yes.  We’re just going.  Oh!  Ronny, this is quite too—­ [But his face dries her up; and sidling past, she goes].

Lady A. Charles sent his-love—­[Her voice dwindles on the word, and she, too, goes].

Dancy. [Crossing to his wife] What have they been saying?

Mabel.  Ronny!  Why didn’t you tell me?

Dancy.  I wanted to see De Levis again first.

Mabel.  That wretch!  How dare he?  Darling! [She suddenly clasps and kisses him.  He does not return the kiss, but remains rigid in her arms, so that she draws away and looks at him] It’s hurt you awfully, I know.

Dancy.  Look here, Mabel!  Apart from that muck—­this is a ghastly tame-cat sort of life.  Let’s cut it and get out to Nairobi.  I can scare up the money for that.

Mabel. [Aghast] But how can we?  Everybody would say—­

Ronny.  Let them!  We shan’t be here.

Mabel.  I couldn’t bear people to think—­

Dancy.  I don’t care a damn what people think monkeys and cats.  I never could stand their rotten menagerie.  Besides, what does it matter how I act; if I bring an action and get damages—­if I pound him to a jelly—­ it’s all no good!  I can’t prove it.  There’ll be plenty of people unconvinced.

Mabel.  But they’ll find the real thief.

Dancy. [With a queer little smile] Will staying here help them to do that?

Mabel. [In a sort of agony] Oh!  I couldn’t—­it looks like running away.  We must stay and fight it!

Dancy.  Suppose I didn’t get a verdict—­you never can tell.

Mabel.  But you must—­I was there all the time, with the door open.

Dancy.  Was it?

Mabel.  I’m almost sure.

Dancy.  Yes.  But you’re my wife.

Mabel. [Bewildered] Ronny, I don’t understand—­suppose I’d been accused of stealing pearls!

Dancy. [Wincing] I can’t.

Mabel.  But I might—­just as easily.  What would you think of me if I ran away from it?

Dancy.  I see. [A pause] All right!  You shall have a run for your money.  I’ll go and see old Twisden.

Mabel.  Let me come! [Dancy shakes his head] Why not?  I can’t be happy a moment unless I’m fighting this.

     Dancy puts out his hand suddenly and grips hers.

Dancy.  You are a little brick!

Mabel. [Pressing his hand to her breast and looking into his face]
Do you know what Margaret called you?

Ronny.  No.

Mabel.  A desperate character.

Dancy.  Ha!  I’m not a tame cat, any more than she.