ven't!

IMOGEN.

Then I will do so. Remain here. I will return in a moment. Don't stir!
[She runs out.]

VALENTINE WHITE.

Shall I run away? Ah, if she only knew how ardently I wish that she had
changed still more--how I wish that she had grown quite unlovable or I
had forgotten how to love her! It's hopeless; I _will_ run away.

[He opens the door and the DOWAGER peeps in.]

DOWAGER.

May I come in?

VALENTINE WHITE.

Eh? Oh, certainly.

[The DOWAGER enters.]

DOWAGER.

[To herself.] What has become of them? [To VALENTINE.] Pardon me, have
you seen my niece, Imogen?

VALENTINE WHITE.

She has just left this room.

DOWAGER.

With Sir Colin Macphail?

VALENTINE WHITE.

Oh, no.

[A cab whistle is heard. VALENTINE looks out of the window.]

DOWAGER.

[To herself.] Where is he? I shan't sleep till I know it is settled.

VALENTINE WHITE.

Here's Sir Colin--hailing a cab.

DOWAGER.

Ah! Something must have happened! [She goes hastily towards the door;
VALENTINE is in her way.] Let me pass, please! I have a motive!

[She goes out as IMOGEN enters by another door carrying a large
old-fashioned box.]

IMOGEN.

Valentine.

VALENTINE WHITE.

Why, what have you there?

Imogen.

A modern young lady's jewel casket. Open it, please. [Kneeling, he opens
the box.]

VALENTINE WHITE.

[Looking into the box.] Imogen! The tea-things! I recognize them!

IMOGEN.

You see, I've never parted with my playthings, Val.

VALENTINE WHITE.

[Dragging out a large, faded, once gaudy doll.] And here's Rosa! I
helped to cut out Rosa's mantle. Battered old Rosa!

IMOGEN.

[Taking the doll from him.] Don't! Old she may be, but her sex should
protect her from insult.

VALENTINE WHITE.

And here are my marbles! and the top! Ah, ah! the skipping-rope!
Imogen--perhaps--I--I've done you an injustice.

IMOGEN.

Do you think so?

VALENTINE WHITE.

I feared fashion had put your bright little nature into tight
corsets--but--I see--I see----

IMOGEN.

[Replacing the toys in the box.] You see, Val.

VALENTINE WHITE.

I see you have some affection for the time when you were not Miss
Twombley, but only--little Jenny.

IMOGEN.

Ah!

VALENTINE WHITE.

Not that these old dumb things prove much.

IMOGEN.

Oh, Val!

VALENTINE WHITE.

They prove their own existence--not the existence of little Jenny.

IMOGEN.

[Crying.] How unjust you are!

VALENTINE WHITE.

Perhaps. But your w