LEVER. There 's nothing to worry over, dear. MRS. GWYN. [Passionately.] What does it matter about the wretched shares now? I 'm stifling. [She throws her scarf off.] LEVER. I don't understand what you mean by "now." MRS. GWYN. Don't you? LEVER. We were n't--Joy can't know--why should she? I don't believe for a minute---- MRS. GWYN. Because you don't want to. LEVER. Do you mean she does? MRS. GWYN. Her heart knows. [LEVER makes a movement of discomfiture; suddenly MRS. GWYN looks at him as though to read his soul.] I seem to bring you nothing but worry, Maurice. Are you tired of me? LEVER. [Meeting her eyes.] No, I am not. MRS. GWYN. Ah, but would you tell me if you were? LEVER. [Softly.] Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. [MRS. GWYN struggles to look at him, then covers her face with her hands.] MRS. GWYN. If I were to give you up, you'd forget me in a month. LEVER. Why do you say such things? MRS. GWYN. If only I could believe I was necessary to you! LEVER. [Forcing the fervour of his voice.] But you are! MRS. GWYN. Am I? [With the ghost of a smile.] Midsummer day! [She gives a laugh that breaks into a sob.] [The music o f a waltz sounds from the house.] LEVER. For God's sake, don't, Molly--I don't believe in going to meet trouble. MRS. GWYN. It's staring me in the face. LEVER. Let the future take care of itself! [MRS. GWYN has turned away her face, covering it with her hands.] Don't, Molly! [Trying to pull her hands away.] Don't! MRS. GWYN. Oh! what shall I do? [There is a silence; the music of the waltz sounds louder from the house.] [Starting up.] Listen! One can't sit it out and dance it too. Which is it to be, Maurice, dancing--or sitting out? It must be one or the other, must n't it? LEVER. Molly! Molly! MRS. GWYN. Ah, my dear! [Standing away from him as though to show herself.] How long shall I keep you? This is all that 's left of me. It 's time I joined the wallflowers. [Smiling faintly.] It's time I played the mother, is n't it? [In a whisper.] It'll be all sitting out then. LEVER. Don't! Let's go and dance, it'll do you good. [He puts his hands on her arms, and in a gust of passion kisses her lips and throat.] MRS. GWYN. I can't give you up--I can't. Love me, oh! love me! [For a moment they stand so; then, with sudden remembrance of where they are, they move apart.] LEVER. Are you all right now, darling? MRS. GWYN. [Trying to smile.] Yes, dear--quite. LEVER. Then let 's go, and dance. [They go.]