The difference is that _he'll_ soon forget me, and _you_,
with _me_ for a wife, are doomed for life. [_Putting her hands upon
JEYES' shoulders._] Nicko----! [_She kisses him lightly and, having
done so, asks him a question with her eyes. JEYES turns aside and she
faces FARNCOMBE and offers him her lips. They kiss._] Good-bye.
[_After a moment's pause, to both of them._] Away with you! [_The two
men go out and she follows them to the top of the stairs and watches
them descend. Then she slowly comes back into the room and stands
listening at the door. There is a distant sound._] Ah! [_Partly
closing the door, she wanders about the room aimlessly for a while.
Then, impulsively, she runs to the further window, lifts the sash, and
looks below._] Ah!... Ah!... [_Drawing back._] Ah-h-h-h----!

[_She shuts the window and comes to the settee and, sitting there,
takes off her shoes. Then she goes down upon the floor inelegantly,
hunts for her slippers, and puts them on. As she rises, the door on
the left is pushed open and MRS. UPJOHN peeps in cautiously._

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_In a dressing-gown and with her hair, now very scanty, tightly
screwed up._] Lil----?

LILY.

[_Stiffening herself and speaking in a cold, level voice._] Oh, I was
just coming up to you, mother, to get you to undo me.

MRS. UPJOHN.

[_Bustling to LILY._] I didn't mean to, but I fell off. [_Unhooking
LILY'S dress._] It _was_ the front-door I 'eard a minute ago, then? It
gave me sech a start. [_In difficulties with the hooks._] Turn more to
the light, dearie. These dressmakers do it a' purpose, I b'lieve. The
'ooks on that noo gown o' mine are a perfect myst'ry. Wot's _this_?

LILY.

[_Twisting her body._] Oh, don't fiddle so, mother!

MRS. UPJOHN.

You _did_ let 'im stay a time, Lil. 'Eaps to talk over, eh?

LILY.

[_Stonily._] Heaps. [_Trying to assist MRS. UPJOHN._] Oh----!

MRS. UPJOHN.

Well, dear; well, well! Tell me wot's took place. Don't keep me in
suspense.

LILY.

I shan't tell you anything, mother, till I've had a sleep. I must go
through the sheets first. [_Stamping her foot._] Oh, tear the thing;
tear it!

MRS. UPJOHN.

'Ave you consented to make 'im 'appy, poor young gentleman? That's all
I want to know, Lil. [_Overcoming a hook._] There!

LILY.

Thank you, mother. [_Slipping her arms out of her dress._] I can
manage the rest.

MRS. UPJOHN.

But, Lil, dearie----!

LILY.

Oh, for mercy's sake, leave me a