The Drawing room at "Highercoombe," the same evening.

Paula is still seated on the ottoman, looking vacantly before her, with the little mirror in her hand. Lady Orreyed enters.

Lady Orreyed.

There you are! You never came into the billiard-room. Isn't it maddening—Cayley Drummle gives me sixty out of a hundred and beats me. I must be out of form, because I know I play remarkably well for a lady. Only last month—— [Paula rises.] Whatever is the matter with you, old girl?

Paula.

Why?

Lady Orreyed.

[Staring.] It's the light, I suppose. [Paula replaces the mirror on the table.] By Aubrey's bolting from the billiard-table in that fashion I thought perhaps——

Paula.

Yes; it's all right.

Lady Orreyed.

You've patched it up? [Paula nods.] Oh, I am jolly glad——! I mean——

Paula.

Yes, I know what you mean. Thanks, Mabel.

Lady Orreyed.

[Kissing Paula.] Now take my advice; for the future——

Paula.

Mabel, if I've been disagreeable to you while you've been staying here, I—I beg your pardon.

[Walking away and sitting down.

Lady Orreyed.

You disagreeable, my dear? I haven't noticed it. Dodo and me both consider you make a first-class hostess, but then you've had such practice, haven't you? [Dropping on to the ottoman and gaping.] Oh, talk about being sleepy——!

Paula.

Why don't you——!

Lady Orreyed.

Why, dear, I must hang about for Dodo. You may as well know it; he's in one of his moods.

Paula.

[Under her breath.] Oh——!

Lady Orreyed.

Now, it's not his fault; it was deadly dull for him while we were playing billiards. Cayley Drummle did ask him to mark, but I stopped that; it's so easy to make a gentleman look like a billiard-marker. This is just how it always is; if poor old Dodo has nothing to do, he loses count, as you may say.

Paula.

Hark!

Sir George Orreyed enters, walking slowly and deliberately; he looks pale and watery-eyed.

Sir George.

[With mournful indistinctness.] I'm 'fraid we've lef' you a grea' deal to yourself to-night, Mrs. Tanqueray. Attra'tions of billiards. I apol'gise. I say, where's ol' Aubrey?

Paula.

My husband has been obliged to go out to a neighbour's house.

Sir George.

I want his advice on a rather pressing matter connected with my family—my family. [Sitting.] To-morrow will do just as well.

Lady Orreyed.

[To Paula.] This is the mood I hate so—drivelling about his precious family.

Sir George.

The fact is, Mrs. Tanqueray, I am not easy in my min' 'bout the way I am treatin' my poor ol' mother.

Lady Orreyed.

[To Paula.] Do you hear that? That's his mother, but my mother he won't so much as look at!

Sir George.

I shall write to Bruton Street firs' thing in the morning.

Lady Orreyed.

[To Paula.] Mamma has stuck to me through everything—well, you know!

Sir George.

I'll get ol' Aubrey to figure out a letter. I'll drop line to Uncle Fitz too—dooced shame of the ol' feller to chuck me over in this manner. [Wiping his eyes.] All my family have chucked me over.

Lady Orreyed.

[Rising.] Dodo!

Sir George.

Jus' because I've married beneath me, to be chucked over! Aunt Lydia, the General, Hooky Whitgrave, Lady Sugnall—my own dear sister!—all turn their backs on me. It's more than I can stan'!

Lady Orreyed.

[Approaching him with dignity.] Sir George, wish Mrs. Tanqueray good-night at once and come upstairs. Do you hear me?

Sir George.

[Rising angrily.] Wha'——

Lady Orreyed.

Be quiet!

Sir George.

You presoom to order me about!

Lady Orreyed.

You're making an exhibition of yourself!

Sir George.

Look 'ere——!

Lady Orreyed.

Come along, I tell you!

[He hesitates, utters a few inarticulate sounds, then snatches up a fragile ornament from the table, and is about to dash it on to the ground. Lady Orreyed retreats, and Paula goes to him.

Paula.

George!

[He replaces the ornament.

Sir George.

[Shaking Paula's hand.] Good ni', Mrs. Tanqueray.

Lady Orreyed.

[To Paula.] Good-night, darling. Wish Aubrey good-night for me. Now, Dodo?

[She goes out.

Sir George.

[To Paula.] I say, are you goin' to sit up for ol' Aubrey?

Paula.

Yes.

Sir George.

Shall I keep you comp'ny?

Paula.

No, thank you, George.

Sir George.

Sure?

Paula.

Yes, sure.

Sir George.

[Shaking hands.] Good-night again.

Paula.

Good-night.

[She turns away. He goes out, steadying himself carefully. Drummle appears outside the window, smoking.

Drummle.

[Looking into the room, and seeing Paula.] My last cigar. Where's Aubrey?

Paula.

Gone down to The Warren, to see Mrs. Cortelyon home.

Drummle.

[Entering the room.] Eh? Did you say Mrs. Cortelyon?

Paula.

Yes. She has brought Ellean back.

Drummle.

Bless my soul! Why?

Paula.

I—I'm too tired to tell you, Cayley. If you stroll along the lane you'll meet Aubrey. Get the news from him.

Drummle.

[Going up to the window.] Yes, yes. [Returning to Paula.] I don't want to bother you, only—the anxious old woman, you know. Are you and Aubrey——?

Paula.

Good friends again?

Drummle.

[Nodding.] Um.

Paula.

[Giving him her hand.] Quite, Cayley, quite.

Drummle.

[Retaining her hand.] That's capital. As I'm off so early to-morrow morning, let me say now—thank you for your hospitality.

[He bends over her hand gallantly, then goes out by the window.

Paula.

[To herself.] "Are you and Aubrey——?" "Good friends again?" "Yes." "Quite, Cayley, quite."

[There is a brief pause, then Aubrey enters hurriedly, wearing a light overcoat and carrying a cap.

Aubrey.

Paula dear! Have you seen Ellean?

Paula.

I found her here when I came down.

Aubrey.

She—she's told you?

Paula.

Yes, Aubrey.

Aubrey.

It's extraordinary, isn't it! Not that somebody should fall in love with Ellean or that Ellean herself should fall in love. All that's natural enough and was bound to happen, I suppose, sooner or later. But this young fellow! You know his history?

Paula.

His history?

Aubrey.

You remember the papers were full of his name a few months ago?

Paula.

Oh, yes.

Aubrey.

The man's as brave as a lion, there's no doubt about that; and, at the same time, he's like a big good-natured schoolboy, Mrs. Cortelyon says. Have you ever pictured the kind of man Ellean would marry some day?

Paula.

I can't say that I have.

Aubrey.

A grave, sedate fellow I've thought about—hah! She has fallen in love with the way in which Ardale practically laid down his life to save those poor people shut up in the Residency. [Taking off his coat.] Well, I suppose if a man can do that sort of thing, one ought to be content. And yet—— [Throwing his coat on the settee.] I should have met him to-night, but he'd gone out. Paula dear, tell me how you look upon this business.

Paula.

Yes, I will—I must. To begin with, I—I've seen Mr. Ardale.

Aubrey.

Captain Ardale?

Paula.

Captain Ardale.

Aubrey.

Seen him?

Paula.

While you were away he came up here, through our grounds, to try to get a word with Ellean. I made her fetch him in and present him to me.

Aubrey.

[Frowning.] Doesn't Captain Ardale know there's a lodge and a front door to this place? Never mind! What is your impression of him?

Paula.

Aubrey, do you recollect my bringing you a letter—a letter giving you an account of myself—to the Albany late one night—the night before we got married?

Aubrey.

A letter?

Paula.

You burnt it; don't you know?

Aubrey.

Yes; I know.

Paula.

His name was in that letter.

Aubrey.

[Going back from her slowly, and staring at her.] I don't understand.

Paula.

Well—Ardale and I once kept house together. [He remains silent, not moving.] Why don't you strike me? Hit me in the face—I'd rather you did! Hurt me! hurt me!

Aubrey.

[After a pause.] What did you—and this man—say to each other—just now?

Paula.

I—hardly—know.

Aubrey.

Think!

Paula.

The end of it all was that I—I told him I must inform you of—what had happened ... he didn't want me to do that ... I declared that I would ... he dared me to. [Breaking down.] Let me alone!—oh!

Aubrey.

Where was my daughter while this went on?

Paula.

I—I had sent her out of the room ... that is all right.

Aubrey.

Yes, yes—yes, yes.

[He turns his head towards the door.

Paula.

Who's that?

A Servant enters with a letter.

Servant.

The coachman has just run up with this from The Warren, sir. [Aubrey takes the letter.] It's for Mrs. Tanqueray, sir; there's no answer.

[The Servant withdraws. Aubrey goes to Paula and drops the letter into her lap; she opens it with uncertain hands.

Paula.

[Reading it to herself.] It's from—him. He's going away—or gone—I think. [Rising in a weak way.] What does it say? I never could make out his writing.

[She gives the letter to Aubrey and stands near him, looking at the letter over his shoulder as he reads.

Aubrey.

[Reading.] "I shall be in Paris by to-morrow evening. Shall wait there, at Meurice's, for a week, ready to receive any communication you or your husband may address to me. Please invent some explanation to Ellean. Mrs. Tanqueray, for God's sake, do what you can for me."

[Paula and Aubrey speak in low voices, both still looking at the letter.

Paula.

Has he left The Warren, I wonder, already?

Aubrey.

That doesn't matter.

Paula.

No, but I can picture him going quietly off. Very likely he's walking on to Bridgeford or Cottering to-night, to get the first train in the morning. A pleasant stroll for him.

Aubrey.

We'll reckon he's gone, that's enough.

Paula.

That isn't to be answered in any way?

Aubrey.

Silence will answer that.

Paula.

He'll soon recover his spirits, I know.

Aubrey.

You know. [Offering her the letter.] You don't want this, I suppose?

Paula.

No.

Aubrey.

It's done with—done with.

[He tears the letter into small pieces. She has dropped the envelope; she searches for it, finds it, and gives it to him.

Paula.

Here!

Aubrey.

[Looking at the remnants of the letter.] This is no good; I must burn it.

Paula.

Burn it in your room.

Aubrey.

Yes.

Paula.

Put it in your pocket for now.

Aubrey.

Yes.

[He does so. Ellean enters and they both turn, guiltily, and stare at her.

Ellean.

[After a short silence, wonderingly.] Papa——

Aubrey.

What do you want, Ellean?

Ellean.

I heard from Willis that you had come in; I only want to wish you good-night. [Paula steals away, without looking back.] What's the matter? Ah! Of course, Paula has told you about Captain Ardale?

Aubrey.

Well?

Ellean.

Have you and he met?

Aubrey.

No.

Ellean.

You are angry with him; so was I. But to-morrow when he calls and expresses his regret—to-morrow——

Aubrey.

Ellean—Ellean!

Ellean.

Yes, papa?

Aubrey.

I—I can't let you see this man again. [He walks away from her in a paroxysm of distress, then, after a moment or two, he returns to her and takes her to his arms.] Ellean! my child!

Ellean.

[Releasing herself.] What has happened, papa? What is it?

Aubrey.

[Thinking out his words deliberately.] Something has occurred, something has come to my knowledge, in relation to Captain Ardale, which puts any further acquaintanceship between you two out of the question.

Ellean.

Any further acquaintanceship ... out of the question?

Aubrey.

Yes.

[Advancing to her quickly, but she shrinks from him.

Ellean.

No, no—I am quite well. [After a short pause.] It's not an hour ago since Mrs. Cortelyon left you and me together here; you had nothing to urge against Captain Ardale then.

Aubrey.

No.

Ellean.

You don't know each other; you haven't even seen him this evening. Father!

Aubrey.

I have told you he and I have not met.

Ellean.

Mrs. Cortelyon couldn't have spoken against him to you just now. No, no, no; she's too good a friend to both of us. Aren't you going to give me some explanation? You can't take this position towards me—towards Captain Ardale—without affording me the fullest explanation.

Aubrey.

Ellean, there are circumstances connected with Captain Ardale's career which you had better remain ignorant of. It must be sufficient for you that I consider these circumstances render him unfit to be your husband.

Ellean.

Father!

Aubrey.

You must trust me, Ellean; you must try to understand the depth of my love for you and the—the agony it gives me to hurt you. You must trust me.

Ellean.

I will, father; but you must trust me a little too. Circumstances connected with Captain Ardale's career?

Aubrey.

Yes.

Ellean.

When he presents himself here to-morrow of course you will see him and let him defend himself?

Aubrey.

Captain Ardale will not be here to-morrow.

Ellean.

Not! You have stopped his coming here?

Aubrey.

Indirectly—yes.

Ellean.

But just now he was talking to me at that window! Nothing had taken place then! And since then nothing can have——! Oh! Why—you have heard something against him from Paula.

Aubrey.

From—Paula!

Ellean.

She knows him.

Aubrey.

She has told you so?

Ellean.

When I introduced Captain Ardale to her she said she had met him in London. Of course! It is Paula who has done this!

Aubrey.

[In a hard voice.] I—I hope you—you'll refrain from rushing at conclusions. There's nothing to be gained by trying to avoid the main point, which is that you must drive Captain Ardale out of your thoughts. Understand that! You're able to obtain comfort from your religion, aren't you? I'm glad to think that's so. I talk to you in a harsh way, Ellean, but I feel your pain almost as acutely as you do. [Going to the door.] I—I can't say anything more to you to-night.

Ellean.

Father! [He pauses at the door.] Father, I'm obliged to ask you this; there's no help for it—I've no mother to go to. Does what you have heard about Captain Ardale concern the time when he led a wild, a dissolute life in London?

Aubrey.

[Returning to her slowly and staring at her.] Explain yourself!

Ellean.

He has been quite honest with me. One day—in Paris—he confessed to me—what a man's life is—what his life had been.

Aubrey.

[Under his breath.] Oh!

Ellean.

He offered to go away, not to approach me again.

Aubrey.

And you—you accepted his view of what a man's life is!

Ellean.

As far as I could forgive him, I forgave him.

Aubrey.

[With a groan.] Why, when was it you left us? It hasn't taken you long to get your robe "just a little dusty at the hem!"

Ellean.

What do you mean?

Aubrey.

Hah! A few weeks ago my one great desire was to keep you ignorant of evil.

Ellean.

Father, it is impossible to be ignorant of evil. Instinct, common instinct, teaches us what is good and bad. Surely I am none the worse for knowing what is wicked and detesting it!

Aubrey.

Detesting it! Why, you love this fellow!

Ellean.

Ah, you don't understand! I have simply judged Captain Ardale as we all pray to be judged. I have lived in imagination through that one week in India when he deliberately offered his life back to God to save those wretched, desperate people. In his whole career I see now nothing but that one week; those few hours bring him nearer the Saints, I believe, than fifty uneventful years of mere blamelessness would have done! And so, father, if Paula has reported anything to Captain Ardale's discredit——

Aubrey.

Paula——!

Ellean.

It must be Paula; it can't be anybody else.

Aubrey.

You—you'll please keep Paula out of the question. Finally, Ellean, understand me—I have made up my mind.

[Again going to the door.

Ellean.

But wait—listen! I have made up my mind also.

Aubrey.

Ah! I recognise your mother in you now!

Ellean.

You need not speak against my mother because you are angry with me!

Aubrey.

I—I hardly know what I'm saying to you. In the morning—in the morning——

[He goes out. She remains standing, and turns her head to listen. Then, after a moment's hesitation she goes softly to the window, and looks out under the verandah.

Ellean.

[In a whisper.] Paula! Paula!

[Paula appears outside the window and steps into the room; her face is white and drawn, her hair is a little disordered.

Paula.

[Huskily.] Well?

Ellean.

Have you been under the verandah all the while—listening?

Paula.

N—no.

Ellean.

You have overheard us—I see you have. And it is you who have been speaking to my father against Captain Ardale. Isn't it? Paula, why don't you own it or deny it?

Paula.

Oh, I—I don't mind owning it; why should I?

Ellean.

Ah! You seem to have been very very eager to tell your tale.

Paula.

No, I wasn't eager, Ellean. I'd have given something not to have had to do it. I wasn't eager.

Ellean.

Not! Oh, I think you might safely have spared us all for a little while.

Paula.

But, Ellean, you forget I—I am your step-mother. It was my—my duty—to tell your father what I—what I knew——

Ellean.

What you knew! Why, after all, what can you know! You can only speak from gossip, report, hearsay! How is it possible that you——! [She stops abruptly. The two women stand staring at each other for a moment; then Ellean backs away from Paula slowly.] Paula!

Paula.

What—what's the matter?

Ellean.

You—you knew Captain Ardale in London!

Paula.

Why—what do you mean?

Ellean.

Oh!

[She makes for the door, but Paula catches her by the wrist.

Paula.

You shall tell me what you mean!

Ellean.

Ah! [Suddenly looking fixedly in Paula's face.] You know what I mean.

Paula.

You accuse me!

Ellean.

It's in your face!

Paula.

[Hoarsely.] You—you think I'm—that sort of creature, do you?

Ellean.

Let me go!

Paula.

Answer me! You've always hated me! [Shaking her.] Out with it!

Ellean.

You hurt me!

Paula.

You've always hated me! You shall answer me!

Ellean.

Well, then, I have always—always——

Paula.

What?

Ellean.

I have always known what you were!

Paula.

Ah! Who—who told you?

Ellean.

Nobody but yourself. From the first moment I saw you I knew you were altogether unlike the good women I'd left; directly I saw you I knew what my father had done. You've wondered why I've turned from you! There—that's the reason! Oh, but this is a horrible way for the truth to come home to every one! Oh!

Paula.

It's a lie! It's all a lie! [Forcing Ellean down upon her knees.] You shall beg my pardon for it. [Ellean utters a loud shriek of terror.] Ellean, I'm a good woman! I swear I am! I've always been a good woman! You dare to say I've ever been anything else! It's a lie!

[Throwing her off violently.

Aubrey re-enters.

Aubrey.

Paula! [Paula staggers back as Aubrey advances. Raising Ellean.] What's this? What's this?

Ellean.

[Faintly.] Nothing. It—it's my fault. Father, I—I don't wish to see Captain Ardale again.

[She goes out, Aubrey slowly following her to the door.

Paula.

Aubrey, she—she guesses.

Aubrey.

Guesses?

Paula.

About me—and Ardale.

Aubrey.

About you—and Ardale?

Paula.

She says she suspected my character from the beginning ... that's why she's always kept me at a distance ... and now she sees through——

[She falters; he helps her to the ottoman, where she sits.

Aubrey.

[Bending over her.] Paula, you must have said something—admitted something——

Paula.

I don't think so. It—it's in my face.

Aubrey.

What?

Paula.

She tells me so. She's right! I'm tainted through and through; anybody can see it, anybody can find it out. You said much the same to me to-night.

Aubrey.

If she has got this idea into her head we must drive it out, that's all. We must take steps to—— What shall we do? We had better—better——What—what?

[Sitting and staring before him.

Paula.

Ellean! So meek, so demure! You've often said she reminded you of her mother. Yes, I know now what your first marriage was like.

Aubrey.

We must drive this idea out of her head. We'll do something. What shall we do?

Paula.

She's a regular woman too. She could forgive him easily enough—but me! That's just a woman!

Aubrey.

What can we do?

Paula.

Why, nothing! She'd have no difficulty in following up her suspicions. Suspicions! You should have seen how she looked at me! [He buries his head in his hands. There is silence for a time, then she rises slowly, and goes and sits beside him.] Aubrey!

Aubrey.

Yes.

Paula.

I'm very sorry.

[Without meeting her eyes, he lays his hand on her arm for a moment.

Aubrey.

Well, we must look things straight in the face. [Glancing round.] At any rate, we've done with this.

Paula.

I suppose so. [After a brief pause.] Of course, she and I can't live under the same roof any more. You know she kissed me to-night, of her own accord.

Aubrey.

I asked her to alter towards you.

Paula.

That was it, then.

Aubrey.

I—I'm sorry I sent her away.

Paula.

It was my fault; I made it necessary.

Aubrey.

Perhaps now she'll propose to return to the convent,—well, she must.

Paula.

Would you like to keep her with you and—and leave me?

Aubrey.

Paula——!

Paula.

You needn't be afraid I'd go back to—what I was. I couldn't.

Aubrey.

Sssh, for God's sake! We—you and I—we'll get out of this place ... what a fool I was to come here again!

Paula.

You lived here with your first wife!

Aubrey.

We'll get out of this place and go abroad again, and begin afresh.

Paula.

Begin afresh?

Aubrey.

There's no reason why the future shouldn't be happy for us—no reason that I can see——

Paula.

Aubrey!

Aubrey.

Yes?

Paula.

You'll never forget this, you know.

Aubrey.

This?

Paula.

To-night, and everything that's led up to it. Our coming here, Ellean, our quarrels—cat and dog!—Mrs. Cortelyon, the Orreyeds, this man! What an everlasting nightmare for you!

Aubrey.

Oh, we can forget it, if we choose.

Paula.

That was always your cry. How can one do it!

Aubrey.

Well make our calculations solely for the future, talk about the future, think about the future.

Paula.

I believe the future is only the past again, entered through another gate.

Aubrey.

That's an awful belief.

Paula.

To-night proves it. You must see now that, do what we will, go where we will, you'll be continually reminded of—what I was. I see it.

Aubrey.

You're frightened to-night; meeting this man has frightened you. But that sort of thing isn't likely to recur. The world isn't quite so small as all that.

Paula.

Isn't it! The only great distances it contains are those we carry within ourselves—the distances that separate husbands and wives, for instance. And so it'll be with us. You'll do your best—oh, I know that—you're a good fellow. But circumstances will be too strong for you in the end, mark my words.

Aubrey.

Paula——!

Paula.

Of course I'm pretty now—I'm pretty still—and a pretty woman, whatever else she may be, is always—well, endurable. But even now I notice that the lines of my face are getting deeper; so are the hollows about my eyes. Yes, my face is covered with little shadows that usen't to be there. Oh, I know I'm "going off." I hate paint and dye and those messes, but, by-and-by, I shall drift the way of the others; I sha'n't he able to help myself. And then, some day—perhaps very suddenly, under a queer, fantastic light at night or in the glare of the morning—that horrid, irresistible truth that physical repulsion forces on men and women will come to you, and you'll sicken at me.

Aubrey.

I——!

Paula.

You'll see me then, at last, with other people's eyes; you'll see me just as your daughter does now, as all wholesome folks see women like me. And I shall have no weapon to fight with—not one serviceable little bit of prettiness left me to defend myself with! A worn-out creature—broken up, very likely, some time before I ought to be—my hair bright, my eyes dull, my body too thin or too stout, my cheeks raddled and ruddled—a ghost, a wreck, a caricature, a candle that gutters, call such an end what you like! Oh, Aubrey, what shall I be able to say to you then? And this is the future you talk about! I know it—I know it! [He is still sitting staring forward; she rocks herself to and fro as if in pain.] Oh, Aubrey! Oh! Oh!

Aubrey.

Paula——!

[Trying to comfort her.

Paula.

Oh, and I wanted so much to sleep to-night! [Laying her head upon his shoulder. From the distance, in the garden, there comes the sound of Drummle's voice; he is singing as he approaches the house.] That's Cayley, coming back from The Warren. [Starting up.] He doesn't know, evidently. I—I won't see him!

[She goes out quickly. Drummle's voice comes nearer. Aubrey rouses himself and snatches up a book from the table, making a pretence of reading. After a moment or two, Drummle appears at the window and looks in.

Drummle.

Aha! my dear chap!

Aubrey.

Cayley?

Drummle.

[Coming into the room.] I went down to The Warren after you?

Aubrey.

Yes?

Drummle.

Missed you. Well? I've been gossiping with Mrs. Cortelyon. Confound you, I've heard the news!

Aubrey.

What have you heard?

Drummle.

What have I heard! Why—Ellean and young Ardale! [Looking at Aubrey keenly.] My dear Aubrey! Alice is under the impression that you are inclined to look on the affair favourably.

Aubrey.

[Rising and advancing to Drummle.] You've not—met—Captain Ardale?

Drummle.

No. Why do you ask? By-the-bye, I don't know that I need tell you—but it's rather strange. He's not at The Warren to-night.

Aubrey.

No?

Drummle.

He left the house half-an-hour ago, to stroll about the lanes; just now a note came from him, a scribble in pencil, simply telling Alice that she would receive a letter from him to-morrow. What's the matter? There's nothing very wrong, is there! My dear chap, pray forgive me if I'm asking too much.

Aubrey.

Cayley, you—you urged me to send her away!

Drummle.

Ellean! Yes, yes. But—but—by all accounts this is quite an eligible young fellow. Alice has been giving me the history——

Aubrey.

Curse him! [Hurling his book to the floor.] Curse him! Yes, I do curse him—him and his class! Perhaps I curse myself too in doing it. He has only led "a man's life"—just as I, how many of us, have done! The misery he has brought on me and mine it's likely enough we, in our time, have helped to bring on others by this leading "a man's life"! But I do curse him for all that. My God, I've nothing more to fear—I've paid my fine! And so I can curse him in safety. Curse him! Curse him!

Drummle.

In Heaven's name, tell me what's happened?

Aubrey.

[Gripping Drummle's arm.] Paula! Paula!

Drummle.

What?

Aubrey.

They met to-night here. They—they—they're not strangers to each other.

Drummle.

Aubrey!

Aubrey.

Curse him! My poor, wretched wife! My poor, wretched wife!

[The door opens and Ellean appears. The two men turn to her. There is a moment's silence.

Ellean.

Father ... father...!

Aubrey.

Ellean?

Ellean.

I—I want you. [He goes to her.] Father ... go to Paula! [He looks into her face, startled.] Quickly—quickly! [He passes her to go out, she seizes his arm, with a cry.] No, no; don't go!

[He shakes her off and goes. Ellean staggers back towards Drummle.

Drummle.

[To Ellean.] What do you mean? What do you mean?

Ellean.

I—I went to her room—to tell her I was sorry for something I had said to her. And I was sorry—I was sorry. I heard the fall. I—I've seen her. It's horrible.

Drummle.

She—she has——!

Ellean.

Killed—herself? Yes—yes. So everybody will say. But I know—I helped to kill her. If I had only been merciful!

[She faints upon the ottoman. He pauses for a moment irresolutely—then he goes to the door, opens it, and stands looking out.

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