RICHARD: It was given to me in Japan three years ago. All those little designs mean things. JUDITH (_bending over it_): What sort of things? RICHARD: Charms for happiness, and luck, and—love. JUDITH: Which is the charm for love? RICHARD: That one. JUDITH: What a dear! RICHARD (_kissing her gently_): Judith! JUDITH (_jumping_): Richard! RICHARD: I’m afraid I couldn’t help it. JUDITH (_dramatically_): What are we to do? What are we to do? RICHARD: I don’t know. JUDITH: David must be told—everything! RICHARD (_alarmed_): Everything? JUDITH (_enjoying herself_): Yes, yes. There come moments in life when it is necessary to be honest—absolutely honest. I’ve trained myself always to shun the underhand methods other women so often employ—the truth must be faced fair and square—— RICHARD (_extremely alarmed_): The truth? I don’t quite understand. JUDITH: Dear Richard, you want to spare me, I know—you’re so chivalrous; but it’s no use. After all, as I said before, David has been a good husband to me, according to his lights. This may, of course, break him up rather, but it can’t be helped; he must be told. I wonder—oh, I wonder how he’ll take it. They say suffering’s good for writers, it strengthens their psychology. Oh, my poor, poor David!—Never mind. You’d better go out into the garden and wait—— RICHARD (_flustered_): Wait? What for? JUDITH: For me, Richard, for me. I will come to you later. Wait in the summer-house. I had begun to think that Romance was dead, that I should never know it again. Before, of course, I had my work and my life in the theatre, but now, nothing—nothing! Everything is empty and hollow, like a broken shell. RICHARD: Look here, Judith, I apologise for what I did just now. I—— JUDITH (_ignoring all interruption_): But now you have come, and it’s all changed—it’s magic. I’m under a spell that I never thought to recapture again. Go along——(_She pushes him towards the garden._) RICHARD (_protesting_): But, Judith—— JUDITH (_pushing him firmly_): Don’t—don’t make it any harder for me. I am quite resolved—it is my self-appointed Calvary, and it’s the only possible way! [_She pushes him into the garden and waves to him bravely with her handkerchief; then she comes back into the room and powders her nose before the glass and puts her hair into place. Then, assuming an expression of restrained tragedy, she opens the library door, from which she recoils genuinely shocked._ [_After a moment or two SOREL and SANDY come out rather sheepishly._ SOREL: Look here, Mother, I—— JUDITH: Sorel, what am I to say to you? SOREL: I don’t know, Mother. JUDITH: Neither do I. SANDY: It was my fault, Mrs. Bliss—Judith—— JUDITH: What a fool I’ve been! What a blind fool! SOREL: Mother, are you _really_ upset? JUDITH (_with feeling_): I’m stunned. SOREL: But, darling—— JUDITH (_gently_): Don’t speak for a moment, Sorel; we must all be very quiet, and think——