Part 25 (1/2)

AMOS. The Duke did--guessed we had taken her.

GERTRUDE. What did they say to that?

AMOS. The Baronet asked me whether I was the chaplain of a Home for [angrily]--ah!

GERTRUDE. Brute! And then?

AMOS. Then they suggested that I ought hardly to leave them to make the necessary explanation to their relative, Mr. Lucas Cleeve.

GERTRUDE. Yes--well?

AMOS. I replied that I fervently hoped I should never set eyes on their relative again.

GERTRUDE [Gleefully.] Ha!

AMOS. But that Mrs. Ebbsmith had left a letter behind her at the Palazzo Arconati, addressed to that gentleman, which I presume contained so full an explanation as he could desire.

GERTRUDE. Oh, Amos--!

AMOS. Eh?

GERTRUDE. You're mistaken there, dear; there was no letter.

AMOS. No letter--?

GERTRUDE. Simply four shakily-written words.

AMOS. Only four words!

GERTRUDE. ”My--hour-is-over.”

[HEPHZIBAH enters with a card on a little tray. GERTRUDE reads the card and utters an exclamation.]

GERTRUDE. [Taking the card and speaking under her breath.] Amos! [He goes to her; they stare at the card together.]

AMOS. [To HEPHZIBAH.] Certainly! [HEPHZIBAH goes out, then returns with the DUKE OF ST. OLPHERTS, and retires. ST. OLPHERTS bows graciously to GERTRUDE and more formally to AMOS.]

AMOS. Pray, sit down. [ST. OLPHERTS seats himself on the settee.]

ST. OLPHERTS. Oh, my dear sir!--If I may use such an expression in your presence--here is the devil to pay!

AMOS. [To ST. OLPHERTS.] You don't mind my pipe. [ST. OLPHERTS waves a hand pleasantly.] And I don't mind your expression--[sitting by the table]--the devil to pay?

ST. OLPHERTS. This, I daresay well intentioned, interference of yours has brought about some very unpleasant results. Mr. Cleeve returns to the Palazzo Arconati and find that Mrs. Ebbsmith has flown.

AMOS. That result, at least, was inevitable.

ST. OLPHERTS. Whereupon he hurries back to the Danieli and denounces us all for a set of conspirators.

AMOS. Your Grace doesn't complain of the injustice of that charge?

ST. OLPHERTS. [Smilingly.] No, no, I don't complain. But the brother-- the wife! Just when they imagined they had bagged the truant--there's the sting!