robe, and she is wearing
a pair of scarlet cloth slippers; altogether she presents an odd,
fantastic figure. She pauses in the doorway hesitatingly, then steadies
herself and, with a defiant air, stalks into the bedroom. Directly she
has moved away,_ QUEX _softly closes the door, locks it, and pockets the
key. Meanwhile_ SOPHY, _looking about the bedroom for the_ DUCHESS,
_discovers the paper upon the bed. She picks it up, reads it and
replaces it, and, coming back into the boudoir, encounters_ QUEX.

SOPHY.

Oh!

QUEX.

[_With a careless nod._] Ah?

SOPHY.

[_Recovering herself, and speaking with a contemptuous smile._] So her
Grace has packed herself off to Mrs. Eden's room. [_Firmly._] Who rang
for me, please?

QUEX.

_I_ rang.

SOPHY.

You? what for?

QUEX.

Oh, you and I are going to have a cosy little chat together.

SOPHY.

[_Haughtily._] I don't understand you.

QUEX.

We'll understand one another well enough, in a minute.

[_He lights another cigarette and seats himself upon the settee. She
moves to the back of a chair, eyeing him distrustfully._

QUEX.

Now then! You've been at the key-hole, have you?

SOPHY.

[_Slightly embarrassed._] Y--yes.

QUEX.

[_Sharply._] Eh?

SOPHY.

[_Defiantly._] Yes; you know I have.

QUEX.

Ah. And I should like to know a little more, while we are upon the
delicate subject of spying. When I found you behind the cypress-hedge
this evening before dinner--

SOPHY.

Well?

QUEX.

You had just at that moment returned to the Italian garden, you said.

SOPHY.

Yes, so I said.

QUEX.

As a matter of fact, you had been there some time, I presume?

SOPHY.

A minute or two.

QUEX.

Heard anything?

SOPHY.

[_Laughing maliciously._] Ha, ha, ha! I heard her Grace say,
"to-night"--[_faintly mimicking the_ DUCHESS] "to-night!" [_With a curl
of the lip._] That was enough for me.

QUEX.

Quite so. You told a deliberate lie, then, when I questioned you?

SOPHY.

Yes.

QUEX.

Earlier in the evening, that manicure game of yours--nothing but a
damned cunning trick, eh?

SOPHY.

I beg you won't use such language.

QUEX.

A trick, eh?

SOPHY.

Certainly.

QUEX.

You wanted--what did you want?

SOPHY.

[_Disdainfully._] A kiss, or a squeeze of the waist--anything of that
sort would have done.

QUEX.

Oh, would it? You didn't get what you wanted, though.

SOPHY.

No; I suppose you were frightened.

QUE