eaning upon the stove, her back towards GERTRUDE.]

GERTRUDE. [Replacing the card in her purse.] As you please. Picture me,
sometimes, in that big, hollow shell of a rectory at Ketherick,
strolling about my poor dead little chap's empty room.

AGNES. [Under her breath.] Oh!

GERTRUDE. [Turning to go.] God bless you.

AGNES. Gertrude! [With altered manner.] You--you have the trick of
making me lonely also. [Going to GERTRUDE, taking her hands and
fondling them.] I'm tired of talking to the walls! And your blood is
warm to me! Shall I tell you, or not--or not?

GERTRUDE. Do tell me.

AGNES. There is a man here, in Venice, who is torturing me--flaying me
alive.

GERTRUDE. Torturing you?

AGNES. He came here about a week ago; he is trying to separate us.

GERTRUDE. You and Mr. Cleeve?

AGNES. Yes.

GERTRUDE. You are afraid he will succeed?

AGNES. Succeed! What nonsense you talk!

GERTRUDE. What upsets you, then?

AGNES. After all, it's difficult to explain--the feeling is so
indefinite. It's like--something in the air. This man is influencing
us both oddly. Lucas is as near illness again as possible; I can hear
his nerves vibrating. And I--you know what a fish-like thing I am as a
rule--just look at me now, as I'm speaking to you.

GERTRUDE. But don't you and Mr. Cleeve--talk to each other?

AGNES. As children do when the lights are put out--of everything but
what's uppermost in their minds.

GERTRUDE. You have met the man?

AGNES. I intend to meet him.

GERTRUDE. Who is he?

AGNES. A relation of Lucas's--the Duke of St. Olpherts

GERTRUDE. He has right on his side, then?

AGNES. If you choose to think so.

GERTRUDE. Supposing he does succeed in taking Mr. Cleeve away from you?

AGNES. [Staring at GERTRUDE.] What, now, do you mean?

GERTRUDE. Yes.

[There is a brief pause; then AGNES walks across the room, wiping her
brow with her handkerchief.]

AGNES. I tell you, that idea's--preposterous.

GERTRUDE. Oh, I can't understand you.

AGNES. You'll respect my confidence?

GERTRUDE. Agnes!

AGNES. [Sitting.] Well, I fancy this man's presence here has simply
started me thinking of a time--oh, it may never come!--a time when I
may cease to be--necessary to Mr. Cleeve. Do you understand?

GERTRUDE. I remember what you told me of your being prepared to grant
each other freedom if--

AGNES. Yes, yes; and for the past few days this idea has filled me with
a fear of the most humiliating kin