MISS MILLER: I’ll tell you. You said just now that the world is what it is--there’s no use in shrinking from things--shrinking from them! Ha, ha, ha! (_she laughs hysterically_). You’re a great deal more likely to jump at them. But if you want to have my explanation, you shall have it. MRS. LLOYD-EVANS (_pointing to the door_): Miss Miller, leave the room. (_Miss Miller looks at her, still laughing, then turns the key in the door, shutting and locking it._) MISS MILLER: I shan’t leave the room, nor you either, till you’ve heard what I’ve got to say. MRS. AKERS: Good heavens, she’s mad! MRS. LLOYD-EVANS (_advancing resolutely_): Give me that key this moment (_putting out her hand for it_). (_Miss Miller, too quick for her, dashes to the window, throwing up the sash, and flings out the key. During the rest of the scene she stands with her back to the open window, while the three other women are grouped together behind the table, at the further side of the room._) MISS MILLER (_her voice has grown cunning, and bitterly and vehemently ironical both at once. She gives the impression of dementia_): _I_ knew what you were going to talk about. _She_ (_pointing to Mrs. Akers_) gave it away when she said it must be “the usual thing.” Of course I listened, to hear what you’d do for Fanny--poor Fanny, who’s going to bring a little baby into the world, and who’s been ill and terrified and unhappy, all these months. And you (_to Mrs. Lloyd-Evans, bitter mockery in her tone_) found it out, and you asked these other kind, charitable, rich ladies to come and meet you here, so that you could all talk it over, and make plans about Fanny. (_Suddenly and viciously_): And oh, how you all _enjoyed_ it--didn’t you--telling each other how painful it was, and how sad, and how you could hardly put it into words! (_Fiercely_): Why, you nearly scratched one another’s eyes out for the fun of going to Fanny’s mother, and “putting the old grandmother into her place” and putting Fanny through the Third Degree, nagging and nagging at her to _tell_, so that you could hear more shocking details, and come and gloat over them. (_Mimicking_): “Oh, but we want to help her,” and “girlhood is so _sacred_.” (_To Mrs. Ballantyne_): Yes, you said that several times, didn’t you, you who are so thankful that your girl _trusts_ you--so that when you cheat her and tell little lies for her own good, the poor little fool swallows it. She won’t always swallow it, you know--she’ll find you out one day. Just like I’ve found out, what charity means and what’s done to girls who sin and get found out. I had to know, you see, because--I’ve done what Fanny did---- (_The women cry out, below their breath._)