you listen a little more
patiently to my views?

LUCAS. No, no. I tell you I intend to keep faith with her, as far as I
am able. She's so earnest, so pitiably earnest. If I broke faith with
her entirely, it would be too damnably cowardly.

ST. OLPHERTS. Cowardly!

LUCAS. [Pacing the room agitatedly.] Besides, we shall do well
together, after all, I believe--she and I. In the end we shall make
concessions to each other and settle down, somewhere abroad,
peacefully.

ST. OLPHERTS. Ha! And they called you a Coming Man at one time, didn't
they?

LUCAS. Oh, I--I shall make as fine a career with my pen as that other
career would have been. At any rate, I ask you to leave me to it all--
to leave me!

[FORTUNE enters. The shades of evening have now deepened; the glow of
sunset comes into the room.]

FORTUNE. I beg your pardon, sir.

LUCAS. Well?

FORTUNE. It is pas' ze time for you to dress for dinner.

LUCAS. I'll come. [FORTUNE goes out.]

ST. OLPHERTS. When do we next meet, dear fellow?

LUCAS. No, no--please not again.

[Nella enters, excitedly.]

NELLA [ Speaking over her shoulder.] Si, Signora; ecco il Signore.
(Yes, Signora; her is the Signor.) [To Cleeve.] Scusi, Signore. Quando
la vendra come e cara--! (Pardon, Signor, when you see her you'll see
how sweet she looks--!) [Agnes's voice is heard.]

AGNES. [Outside.] Am I keeping you waiting, Lucas?

[She enters, handsomely gowned, her throat and arms bare, the fashion
of her hair roughly altered. She stops abruptly upon seeing ST.
OLPHERTS; a strange light comes into her eyes; her voice, manner,
bearing, all express triumph. The two men stare at her blankly. She
appears to be a beautiful woman.]

AGNES. [To Nella.] Un petit chale noir tricote--cher-chez-le. [Nella
withdraws.] Ah, you're not dressed, Lucas dear.

LUCAS. What--what time is it? [He goes towards the door, still staring
at AGNES.]

ST. OLPHERTS. [Looking at her, and speaking in an altered tone.] I fear
my gossiping has delayed him. You--you dine out?

AGNES. At the Grunwald. Why don't you join us? [Turning to Lucas,
lightly.] Persuade him, Lucas. [LUCAS pauses at the door.]

ST. OLPHERTS. Er--impossible. Some--friends of mine may arrive
tonight. [Lucas goes out.] I am more than sorry.

AGNES. [Mockingly.] Really? You are sure you are not shy of being seen
with a notorious woman?

ST. OLPHERTS. My dear Mrs. Ebbsmith--!

AGNES. No, I forget--that would be unlike you. Mad peopl