NEWTE [_he is about to speak_, _changes his mind_]. All right, go your own way. [_Goes out_.] DR. FREEMANTLE. “Remember”, says Marcus Aurelius— VERNON. Yes—good old sort, Marcus Aurelius. [_He drops listlessly into a chair_.] _Dr. Freemantle smiles resignedly_, _looks at the Misses Wetherell_, _shrugs his shoulders_, _and goes out_, _closing the door after him_. _The Misses Wetherell whisper together—look round cautiously_, _steal up behind him_, _encouraging one another_. THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She’s so young. THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And so adaptable. VERNON [_he is sitting_, _bowed down_, _with his face in his hands_]. Ah, it was the deception. THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_she puts her old thin hand on his shoulder_]. What would you have done, dear, if she had told you—at first? VERNON [_he takes her hand in his—answers a little brokenly_]. I don’t know. THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. There’s something we wanted to tell you. [_He looks at her_. _They look across at each other_.] The first Lady Bantock, your great-grandmamma— THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. She danced with George III. THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She was a butcher’s daughter. THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. He was quite a little butcher. THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Of course, as a rule, dear, we never mention it. THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We felt you ought to know. [_They take each other’s hands_; _on tip-toe they steal out_. _They close the door softly behind them_.] _Vernon rises_. _He looks at the portrait—draws nearer to it_. _With his hands in his pockets_, _stops dead in front of it_, _and contemplates it in silence_. _The door of the dressing-room opens_. _Fanny enters_. _She is dressed for going out_. _She stands for a moment_, _the door in her hand_. _Vernon turns_. _She closes the door and comes forward_. VERNON. Good morning. FANNY. Good morning. George stayed the night, didn’t he? VERNON. Yes. He’s downstairs now. FANNY. He won’t be going for a little while? VERNON. Can’t till the ten o’clock train. Have you had breakfast? FANNY. I—I’ve had something to eat. I’m sorry for what I did last night—although they did deserve it. [_Laughs_.] I suppose it’s a matter than can easily be put right again. VERNON. You have no objection to their staying? FANNY. Why should I? VERNON. What do you mean? FANNY. There’s only one hope of righting a mistake. And that is going back to the point from where one went wrong—and that was our marriage. [_A moment_.] VERNON. We haven’t given it a very long trial. FANNY [_with an odd smile_]. It went to pieces at the first. I was in trouble all last night; you must have known it. You left me alone. VERNON. Jane told me you had locked yourself in.