MRS. TIMBRELL. If anyone could change you, Mary would, but you don't change. LEONARD. Don't change! I'm always changing. I'm a perfect Kaleidoscope. MRS. TIMBRELL. Always a Kaleidoscope. LEONARD. [_Taking his mother by the shoulders._] You just go and get me some money, will you? Tell the old boy I'm a new man, a reformed character. Put in a good word for Mary. Tell him she's done it. Then see if you can't get fifty pounds out of him. MRS. TIMBRELL. You'd kill the goose with the golden eggs, before it laid any. Mary, we'd better let him go. MARY. Oh! yes. MRS. TIMBRELL. You must have some money? What's the least you can manage with? LEONARD. The least? Well, I should say the least is the most I can get. MRS. TIMBRELL. [_Fingering her rings._] Have you started with pawnshops yet? LEONARD. Oh! yes. I'm not afraid of pawnshops. MRS. TIMBRELL. I'm too old to begin. [_She takes off a ring and gives it to him._] Take that. MARY. No, no. He can't do that. MRS. TIMBRELL. I think he can. LEONARD. Of course I can. I thought you would understand, Mary. A mother's sacrifice for her son is one of the most beautiful things--just think what you would do for little Leonard. MARY. Yes, if there's need. LEONARD. Need? There is need. But wouldn't like to deprive her of the pleasure. The pleasure! It's a sacred joy. Isn't it mother? MRS. TIMBRELL. You're a humbug. LEONARD. I suppose I am. But I'm your son all the same. You can't be less than a mother because I've got a bit of humbug about me. I wonder if I should do better to sell it out and out to a jeweller. You don't mind, mother? MRS. TIMBRELL. You couldn't redeem it. You couldn't give it me back. LEONARD. Do you want it back? MRS. TIMBRELL. I thought it might be a sacred joy to give it back to me. LEONARD. Good. Very good. You're a damned fine woman, you know. Isn't she, Mary? I suppose a lot of mothers do the kind of things that she does for their sons but she does them lightly. She can be witty over it. MRS. TIMBRELL. Good-bye, Mary. I'll come again soon. MARY. Good-bye. [_MRS. TIMBRELL goes. LEONARD goes out with her for a moment and returns. He capers up to MARY, seizes her waist and waltzes her round. She yields and laughs for a moment, then stiffens and struggles._] MARY. Hark! There's little Leonard. LEONARD. Bother little Leonard! [_She breaks away and runs out. He does a pas seul as the curtain falls._] ACT IV. [_Two months later. The TIMBRELL'S drawing-room again. Afternoon. ADA. To her enters SHEILA in out-door things._] ADA. Hullo! Sheila. SHEILA. All alone? ADA. Mother's somewhere about. Take your things off. SHEILA. I don't think I'll stop. Ada-- ADA. Well? SHEILA. Has Leonard come home? Have you heard from him? ADA. He's coming, I think. Mother's sent him three telegrams. SHEILA. What good is it now with the child dead and buried? ADA. He's dreadful, isn't he?