Twisden.  Wait!  We want him to go straight off to Morocco.  Don’t upset him. [To Colford and Margaret] I think you had better go.  If, a little later, Margaret, you could go round to Mrs Dancy—­

Colford.  Poor little Mabel Dancy!  It’s perfect hell for her.

     They have not seen that Dancy has opened the door behind them.

Dancy.  It is!

     They all turn round in consternation.

Colford. [With a convulsive movement] Old boy!

Dancy.  No good, Colford. [Gazing round at them] Oh! clear out—­I can’t stand commiseration; and let me have some air.

     Twisden motions to Colford and Margaret to go; and as he turns to
     Dancy, they go out.  Graviter also moves towards the door.  The
     general sits motionless.  Graviter goes Out.

Twisden.  Well?

Dancy.  I’m going home, to clear up things with my wife.  General Canynge, I don’t quite know why I did the damned thing.  But I did, and there’s an end of it.

Canynge.  Dancy, for the honour of the Army, avoid further scandal if you can.  I’ve written a letter to a friend of mine in the Spanish War Office.  It will get you a job in their war. [Canynge closes the envelope].

Dancy.  Very good of you.  I don’t know if I can make use of it.

     Canynge stretches out the letter, which Twisden hands to Dancy, who
     takes it.  Graviter re-opens the door.

Twisden.  What is it?

Graviter.  De Levis is here.

Twisden.  De Levis?  Can’t see him.

Dancy.  Let him in!

After a moment’s hesitation Twisden nods, and Graviter goes out.  The three wait in silence with their eyes fixed on the door, the general sitting at the table, Twisden by his chair, Dancy between him and the door Right.  De Levis comes in and shuts the door.  He is advancing towards Twisden when his eyes fall on Dancy, and he stops.

Twisden.  You wanted to see me?

De Levis. [Moistening his lips] Yes.  I came to say that—­that I overheard—­I am afraid a warrant is to be issued.  I wanted you to realise—­it’s not my doing.  I’ll give it no support.  I’m content.  I don’t want my money.  I don’t even want costs.  Dancy, do you understand?

     Dancy does not answer, but looks at him with nothing alive in his
     face but his eyes.

Twisden.  We are obliged to you, Sir.  It was good of you to come.

De Levis. [With a sort of darting pride] Don’t mistake me.  I didn’t come because I feel Christian; I am a Jew.  I will take no money—­not even that which was stolen.  Give it to a charity.  I’m proved right.  And now I’m done with the damned thing.  Good-morning!