h her head on his breast.] Lucas.

LUCAS. Yes?

AGNES. Isn't this madness?

LUCAS. I don't think so.

AGNES. Oh! oh! oh! I believe, to be a woman is to be mad.

LUCAS. No, to be a woman trying not to be a woman--that is to be mad.
[She draws a long, deep breath, then, sitting away from him, resumes
her shawl mechanically.]

AGNES. Now, you promised me to run out to the Capello Nero to get a
little food.

LUCAS. Oh, I'd rather--

AGNES. [Rising.] Dearest, you need it.

LUCAS. [Rising.] Well--Fortune shall fetch my hat and coat.

AGNES. Fortune! Are you going to take all my work from me? [She is
walking towards the door; the sound of his voice stops her.]

LUCAS. Agnes! [She returns.] A thousand thoughts have rushed through my
brain this last hour or two. I've been thinking--my wife--

AGNES. Yes?

LUCAS. My wife--she will soon get tired of her present position. If,
by-and-bye, there should be a divorce, there would be nothing to
prevent our marrying.

AGNES. Our--marrying!

LUCAS. [Sitting, not looking at her, as if discussing the matter with
himself.] It might be to my advantage to settle again in London some
day. After all, scandals quickly lose their keen edge. What would you
say?

AGNES. Marriage--

LUCAS. Ah, remember, we're rational beings for the future. However, we
needn't talk about it now.

AGNES. No.

LUCAS. Still, I assume you wouldn't oppose it. You would marry me if I
wished it?

AGNES. [in a low voice.] Yes.

LUCAS. That's a sensible girl! By Jove, I am hungry! [He lights a
cigarette as she walks slowly to the door, then throws himself idly
back on the settee.]

AGNES. [To herself, in a whisper.] My old life--my old life coming all
over again! [She goes out. He lies watching the wreaths of tobacco
smoke. After a moment or two FORTUNE enters, closing the door carefully
behind him.]

LUCAS. Eh?

FORTUNE. [After a glance round, dropping his voice.] Ze Duke of St.
Olphert 'e say 'e vould like to speak a meenit alone. [LUCAS rises,
with a muttered exclamation of annoyance.]

LUCAS. Priez Monsieur le Duc d'entrer.
[FORTUNE goes to the door and opens it. The DUKE OF ST. OLPHERTS
enters; he is in evening dress. FORTUNE retires.]

ST. OLPHERTS. Quite alone?

LUCAS. For the moment.

ST. OLPHERTS. My excuse to Mrs. Ebbsmith for not dining at the Grunwald
--it was a perfectly legitimate one, dear Lucas. I really was expecting
visitors.

LUCAS. [Wonderingly.] Yes?

ST. OLPH