(_MICHAEL turns slowly from the railing, heaves a deep sigh, and stands with clenched hands, rigid, looking straight before him with tragic eyes. The beautiful voice grows fainter in the distance. The sun is westering on the right, and sheds a golden light on the scene. BALDWIN stands staring out into the sunset._) CLARE. (_From above._) Mike! MICHAEL. Yes? CLARE. Has she gone? MICHAEL. Yes. CLARE. Mike. MICHAEL. Yes? CLARE. Why is she like a collar? MICHAEL. I don’t know. CLARE. Because she’s always round your neck. MICHAEL. (_With clenched hands._) Oh.... CLARE. You and she are enough to make a saint ill. You ought to have more tact than to spoon about in public. (_MICHAEL stands rigid._) Mike. MICHAEL. Yes? CLARE. Sulky? MICHAEL. No. CLARE. What’s up, then? MICHAEL. Nothing. CLARE. I’m coming down. There’s not a nest to be seen anywhere. By Jove, I am in a mess! It’s all your fault for driving me up a tree with your disgusting billing and cooing. MICHAEL. (_Hoarsely._) Don’t.... CLARE. Sorry. (_MICHAEL makes a movement._) No, no! Stay where you are! And don’t look up here. Oh, damn!... Sorry! But I’ve torn my frock and ripped open the hooks behind. All your fault. MICHAEL. You shall have another frock. CLARE. Thanks. MICHAEL. Two frocks. CLARE. No—one and a pinafore. Oh, confound this branch!... I think the pater would draw the line at two frocks. (_She descends into view, and jumps on to the ground. She is sadly dishevelled, her gloves filthy, her dress all open at the back, and with a great tear at the side of the skirt._) At last!... Hullo, Baldwin, I thought you had gone.... BALDWIN. No, miss. MICHAEL. What are you doing here, Baldwin? BALDWIN. The mistress’s orders, sir. I was to keep a h’eye on the sun. (_CLARE laughs._) MICHAEL. (_Mystified._) Keep a h’eye on the sun? What do you mean? (_CLARE laughs._) BALDWIN. ’Er ladyship said as I was to keep a h’eye on the sun, so as to lop away the branches. MICHAEL. I don’t understand in the least what you are talking about. Come back later on. BALDWIN. Yessir. But the mistress’s orders—— MICHAEL. Yes, yes—another time. I’m busy now. BALDWIN. Yessir.... (_He goes out slowly._) CLARE. (_Exhibiting the damages in her dress._) And now perhaps, sir, you will keep a h’eye on me, while I show you the result of your ’andiwork! MICHAEL. My dear child!... But in common fairness, you can’t put all the blame on me. CLARE. Well, I shan’t say anything more at present, since you’re going to give me a new frock. (_Looking at her hands._) Oh, dear! I wish it were gloves. MICHAEL. (_With fascinated eyes._) A dozen pair.... CLARE. All right—five and three-quarters. Now then—pins. MICHAEL. Pins? CLARE. Yes, pins. Look alive! MICHAEL.