You won’t get any pity out of me, my dear—not an ounce! Either you or I tell Michael the story from start to finish—and if _I_ tell him, there won’t be much left of your character when I’ve finished. LADY PATRICIA. (_Wildly._) What am I to do? What am I to do? Dean—Dean—will you allow my aunt to wreak her horrible vengeance on me by murdering my husband? DEAN. Oh, but really, I don’t think it will be quite so bad as that. LADY PATRICIA. But I know it—I know it! DEAN. Besides, how am I to prevent her—even if I wished to? LADY PATRICIA. As the mouthpiece of spiritual authority.... MRS. O’FARREL. I don’t care a rap for his spiritual authority. DEAN. You see. (_A pause. LADY PATRICIA stands rigid, with clenched hands. Finally she speaks in a low, dull voice._) LADY PATRICIA. Then—you—really—mean—to—do—this? MRS. O’FARREL. Certainly. LADY PATRICIA. I—am—ruined. MRS. O’FARREL. Nonsense! I’ve a strong idea this may be the saving of you both. LADY PATRICIA. Ruined.... I should like to sit down. DEAN. My dear lady—— (_Brings her a chair._) LADY PATRICIA. (_Sits, and points blindly to the breakfast table._) Is that ... milk? DEAN. Yes. Would you—— LADY PATRICIA. I should like a little milk. (_The DEAN gives it to her._) Thank you.... I—I will tell Michael all. MRS. O’FARREL. Bravo! We shall make a woman of you yet! LADY PATRICIA. You are very hard and cruel and vindictive.... But I forgive you. (_JOHN enters._) JOHN. Mr. Cosway has called, sir. LADY PATRICIA. (_In a whisper._) Michael! DEAN. Where is he? JOHN. In the study, sir. DEAN. Lady Patricia—— LADY PATRICIA. No—no—no. DEAN. Just a minute, John. JOHN. Yes, sir. (_Retires to the back._) LADY PATRICIA. What does it mean? Why is he here? DEAN. He said he might call this morning on the way to church. Lady Patricia, go to him now. Tell him everything now. LADY PATRICIA. I can’t—I can’t—— MRS. O’FARREL. Get it over, Patricia. DEAN. Come, dear lady—— (_He offers her his arm. LADY PATRICIA rises unsteadily, stares for a moment wildly before her, then sits down again._) LADY PATRICIA. I haven’t the strength—I haven’t the strength to go to him.... My knees tremble. Bring him here and leave us together.... DEAN. (_Calling._) John. (_JOHN re-enters._) JOHN. Yes sir? DEAN. Ask Mr. Cosway to come here. JOHN. Yes sir. (_JOHN goes out._) MRS. O’FARREL. Cheer up, Patricia! LADY PATRICIA. _A little since and I was glad, but now_ _I never shall be glad or sad again...._ DEAN. I—er—beg your pardon? LADY PATRICIA. Swinburne.... For the last time—for the last time, Aunt Eileen, I ask you to spare me. DEAN. Perhaps, after all, we had better—— MRS. O’FARREL. No! Don’t be a fool, Dean! No, Patricia, you’ve got to go through with this. Believe me, the result will astonish you.