would you do with that, if I did write it?

QUEX.

Simply hold it in my possession, as security for your silence, until
after my marriage with Miss Eden; then return it to you.

SOPHY.

Oh, won't your lordship trust me?

QUEX.

[_Contemptuously._] Trust you! [_After a pause, she returns to the
writing-table and takes up her pen again._] Where were we?

SOPHY.

[_Feebly._] "I quite understand--"

QUEX.

"That our friendship comes to an end." [_She writes. He rises and looks
over her shoulder._] "While thanking you again for past and present
favours--"

SOPHY.

[_Groaning as she writes._] Oh! oh!

QUEX.

"I undertake not to approach or annoy you in the future--"

SOPHY.

Oh!

QUEX.

"Upon any pretext whatsoever. Yours respectfully--" [_After watching the
completion of the letter._] Date it vaguely--[_with a wave of the
hand_] "Monday afternoon." Blot it. [_Moving away._] That's right.
[_She rises, reading the letter with staring eyes. Then she comes to him
and yields the letter, and he folds it neatly and puts it into his
breast-pocket._] Thank you. I think I need detain you no longer.

SOPHY.

[_With a gasp._] Ah! stop a bit! no, I won't!

QUEX.

What's the matter with you?

SOPHY.

[_Wildly._] Why, it's like selling Muriel! Just to get myself out of
this, I'm simply handing her over to you! I won't do it! I won't! [_She
rushes to the bell-rope and tugs at it again and again._] She sha'n't
marry you! she sha'n't! I've said she sha'n't, and she sha'n't!
[_Leaving the bell-rope and facing him fiercely._] Oh, let your precious
Duchess go scot-free! After all, what does it matter who the woman is
you've been sporting with, so that Miss Muriel is kept from falling into
your clutches! Yes, I'll make short work of _you_, my lord. The ladies
shall hear from _my_ mouth of the lively half-hour I've spent with you,
and how I've suddenly funked the consequences and _raised a hullabaloo_!
Now, my lord! now then! now then!

[_His astonishment has given way to admiration; he gazes at her as if
spell-bound._

QUEX.

[_After a pause, during which she stands before him panting._] By God,
you're a fine plucked 'un! I've never known a better. [_Resolutely._]
No, my girl, I'm damned if you shall suffer! Quick! listen! pull
yourself together!

SOPHY.

[_Hysterically._] Eh? eh?

QUEX.

[_Taking her letter from his pocket and thrusting it into her hand._]
Here's your letter! take it--I won't have