TIMBRELL. Mary Broome, he leaves this house--to-day--and never again receives support in money or aught else from me. [_This is spoken standing. He sits down heavily. A short pause._] It is now between my son Leonard and Mary Broome. [_He opens the Bible at the blank pages before the title page and, putting on his spectacles, looks fixedly and inscrutably at the names inscribed there._] SHEILA. [_To EDGAR._] I think you ought to interfere. TIMBRELL. [_Without looking up._] If Sheila is not satisfied with her sister-in-law she need not marry into this family. SHEILA. She would be my brother-in-law's wife not my sister-in-law. LEONARD. You are saved. TIMBRELL. I want to know whether I must write Mary Broome's name here. EDGAR. It's after marriage you'd do that--not before. TIMBRELL. This time it's before. LEONARD. There's a sort of grandeur about a man with a fixed idea. EDGAR. I know you're an obstinate--a determined man, sir, but I'll ask you for once to consider-- TIMBRELL. Silence. EDGAR. Mother-- MRS. TIMBRELL. It's no use. I've never stood up against him. I've let him have his own way all these years. It didn't seem to matter. TIMBRELL. I am the head of this house. [_His implacability daunts them. There are whisperings between ADA, SHEILA and EDGAR. MRS. TIMBRELL is a little apart quiet and sad. In the grouping MARY has come to the front. LEONARD moves a step or two nearer to her and the others are in a rough ring about them._] LEONARD. Mary. MARY. Well? LEONARD. I've done you a frightful wrong. There's no getting away from that. Don't let it worry you too much. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault at all. But it's not such a wrong as this--as this would be. May I say that I've been admiring you greatly to-day. I think you're a beautiful creature. Good-bye. [_He holds out his hand._] MARY. But-- MRS. TIMBRELL. My dear boy-- TIMBRELL. Your cunning won't do. You're full of shams and tricks. LEONARD. I was never more sincere. TIMBRELL. How long do your sincerities last? LEONARD. I know. I know. It's gusts and moods with me. Mary, you'll believe me now. [_He looks at his watch._] At what o'clock does this house cease to be my home? TIMBRELL. The sooner the better. MARY. But what are you going to do? LEONARD. I don't know. I shall sponge on my pals for a time, I suppose. I shall dun my mother. I might get down to Ada. Edgar, I think you're safe. By-the-bye, Sheila, can you lend me half-a-crown? [_He turns suddenly to his father._] Do you see the folly of it yet? Are you going to budge? What about my mother? Is it fair to her? TIMBRELL. You begin to think of your mother too late. LEONARD. Oh! I know I'm as selfish as they're made. You're well out of it, Mary. There's no relenting, then? TIMBRELL. None. [_LEONARD pauses for a moment and then walks towards the door._] MARY. Stop. [_He stops and looks round._] Come here, please. [_He returns to her._] I'll--I'll do as you like. LEONARD. You mean you'd marry me?