Timothy (looking at her fixedly.  She pauses in her knitting and returns his look).  Very well, ma’am—­there’s no need of my bothering you.  You’ve heard nothing more of Mr. George?

Augusta (with sudden tears).  They’re sending him home.

Timothy.  And now that ye’re getting him back, ma’am, ye might think with a little more charity of her that belongs to me—­the only one I’d have left.

   (Timothy goes out, lower right.  Augusta is blinded by tears.  She
   lets fall her ball of wool.  Dr. Jonathan picks it up.)

Augusta.  I try to be fair in my judgments, and true to my convictions, but what Minnie has done cannot be condoned.

Dr. Jonathan (sitting down beside Augusta) And what has Minnie done, Augusta?

Augusta.  You ask me that?  I try hard to give you credit, Jonathan, for not knowing the ways of the world—­but it’s always been difficult to believe that Minnie Farrell had become well—­a bad woman.

Dr. Jonathan.  A bad woman.  I gather, then, that you don’t believe in the Christian doctrines of repentance and regeneration.

Augusta (bridling).  The leopard doesn’t change his spots.  And has she shown any sign of repentance?  Has she come to me and asked my pardon for the way in which she treated me?  Has she gone to church and asked God’s forgiveness?  But I know you are an agnostic, Jonathan,—­it grieves me.  I couldn’t expect you to see the necessity of that.

Dr. Jonathan.  If it hadn’t been for Minnie, I shouldn’t have been able to achieve a discovery that may prove of value to our suffering soldiers, as well as to injured operatives in factories.  In spite of the news of her brother’s death, Minnie worked all afternoon and evening.  It was midnight when we made the successful test, after eight months of experiment.

Augusta.  I hope the discovery may be valuable.  It seems to me that there is too much science in these days and too little religion.  I’ve never denied that the girl is clever.

Dr. Jonathan.  But you would deny her the opportunity to make something of her cleverness because in your opinion; she has broken the Seventh Commandment.  Is that it?

Augusta.  I can’t listen to you when you talk in this way.

Dr. Jonathan.  But you listen every Sunday to Moses—­if it was Moses? —­when he talks in this way.  You have made up your mind, haven’t you, that Minnie has broken the Commandment?

Augusta.  I’m not a fool, Jonathan.

Dr. Jonathan.  You are what is called a good woman.  Have you proof that
Minnie is what you would call a bad one?

Augusta.  Has she ever denied it?  And you heard her when she stood up in this room and spoke of her life in Newcastle.