MICH. You've never allowed me to forget it for a single moment. Every time you've spoken to me, or looked at me, or crossed the room, or passed the window, every time I've heard your step on the stairs, or your voice speaking to the servants, you've accused me. If you had been in my place I would have been very kind to you, Andrew. ANDR. How did you treat my girl? MICH. I did what I thought was best for her soul. ANDR. Then why don't you do what is best for your own soul? MICH. I shall. (_ANDREW looks at MICHAEL in startled inquiry._) _Enter by transept DOCWRAY and SIR LYOLF. SIR LYOLF is in evening dress under summer overcoat. DOCWRAY points out the decorations to SIR LYOLF._ ANDR. Why have you sent for Rose to come back to Cleveheddon? MICH. I wish her to be present at the services to-morrow. She is almost due. Go to the station and meet her. Bring her to me here. (_SIR LYOLF and DOCWRAY saunter up towards MICHAEL and ANDREW. ANDREW stands perplexed._) MICH. (_firmly, to ANDREW_). Bring her to me here. (_ANDREW goes off through transept, turns to look at MICHAEL before he goes off._) SIR LYOLF. You didn't turn up at dinner? MICH. I was too busy. SIR LYOLF. All prepared for to-morrow? MICH. Yes, I think. SIR LYOLF. So it seems Mrs. Lesden has come down from town. MICH. So I understand. SIR LYOLF (_MICHAEL is listening intently_). I thought we had seen the last of her when the long-lost husband returned and took her off to London. By the way, what has become of her husband? MARK. He has gone back to South America. (_MICHAEL is listening intently._) SIR LYOLF. Gone back to South America? MARK. He only stayed three weeks in England. It is said that she has pensioned him off--he is to keep to his hemisphere, and she is to keep to hers. SIR LYOLF. I don't like it! MARK. Don't like what? SIR LYOLF. I don't like women who pension off their husbands to live in South America. MICH. Do you see much of her in town? MARK. Not much. About every two months she sweeps into church in a whirlwind of finery and perfume, gives me a ridiculously large sum for the offertory, makes some most irreverent joke, or else pretends to be deeply religious---- MICH. Pretends? MARK. What can it be but pretence? Look at her life this last year. MICH. What of it? MARK. It has been one continual round of gaiety and excitement except when she was ill. MICH. She has been ill? MARK. Yes, and no wonder. MICH. Why? MARK. She goes everywhere, gives the most extravagant parties, mixes with the fastest, emptiest, London set. And she has taken for her companion a silly, flighty little woman, Mrs. Cantelo. SIR LYOLF. I don't like it! Why has she come back to Cleveheddon just now? MARK. To be present at the dedication service to-morrow, I suppose. SIR LYOLF. Michael---- MICH. Well? SIR LYOLF. You know that everybody is asking where all the money came from for these magnificent restorations?