Mabel goes out by the door Left.

Poor kid!

She curls herself into a corner of the sofa, as if trying to get away from life.  The bell rings.  Margaret stirs, gets up, and goes out into the corridor, where she opens the door to lady Adela Winsor, whom she precedes into the sitting-room.

Enter the second murderer!  D’you know that child knew nothing?

Lady A. Where is she?

Margaret.  Telephoning.  Adela, if there’s going to be an action, we shall be witnesses.  I shall wear black georgette with an ecru hat.  Have you ever given evidence?

Lady A. Never.

Margaret.  It must be too frightfully thrilling.

Lady A. Oh!  Why did I ever ask that wretch De Levis?  I used to think him pathetic.  Meg did you know——­Ronald Dancy’s coat was wet?  The General happened to feel it.

Margaret.  So that’s why he was so silent.

Lady A. Yes; and after the scene in the Club yesterday he went to see those bookmakers, and Goole—­what a name!—­is sure he told Dancy about the sale.

Margaret. [Suddenly] I don’t care.  He’s my third cousin.  Don’t you feel you couldn’t, Adela?

Lady A. Couldn’t—­what?

Margaret.  Stand for De Levis against one of ourselves?

Lady A. That’s very narrow, Meg.

Margaret.  Oh!  I know lots of splendid Jews, and I rather liked little Ferdy; but when it comes to the point—!  They all stick together; why shouldn’t we?  It’s in the blood.  Open your jugular, and see if you haven’t got it.

Lady A. My dear, my great grandmother was a Jewess.  I’m very proud of her.

Margaret.  Inoculated. [Stretching herself] Prejudices, Adela—­or are they loyalties—­I don’t know—­cris-cross—­we all cut each other’s throats from the best of motives.

Lady A. Oh!  I shall remember that.  Delightful! [Holding up a finger] You got it from Bergson, Meg.  Isn’t he wonderful?

Margaret.  Yes; have you ever read him?

Lady A. Well—­No. [Looking at the bedroom door] That poor child!  I quite agree.  I shall tell every body it’s ridiculous.  You don’t really think Ronald Dancy—?

Margaret.  I don’t know, Adela.  There are people who simply can’t live without danger.  I’m rather like that myself.  They’re all right when they’re getting the D.S.O. or shooting man-eaters; but if there’s no excitement going, they’ll make it—­out of sheer craving.  I’ve seen Ronny Dancy do the maddest things for no mortal reason except the risk.  He’s had a past, you know.

Lady A. Oh!  Do tell!

Margaret.  He did splendidly in the war, of course, because it suited him; but—­just before—­don’t you remember—­a very queer bit of riding?