OLIVE. [_Breathlessly._] Waiting——! JOHN. She—she wishes to see me. OLIVE. [_In a low voice._] Oh, yes. [_Sitting, her hands tightly gripped together._] Oh, yes. JOHN. [_Going to her and handing her the letter._] Read it, please, Olive. OLIVE. [_After a pause, holding the letter between her finger and thumb, reading._] “Station Hotel, Epsom. My dear old Jack”—— [_Hastily returning the letter to_ JOHN, _with a shudder_.] Take it from me! JOHN. [_Reading aloud._] “My dear old Jack”—[_looking round, simply_]—we have known each other many years—[_reading_]—“oh! I have had such a job to find you. I shall plant myself at some quiet spot near your cottage and get a messenger to bring this to you. The messenger will show you where I am, if you will only consent to see me for a few moments on—[_looking round_]—on a matter of business.” [MRS. CLOYS, _concealed from the others by_ SIR FLETCHER, _sinks on to the settee_. SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD. Ha, a matter of business! Of course, a matter of business. JOHN. [_Resuming._] “I have left my husband. He turned against me at the end and crushed my one hope of being able to whitewash myself.” The cur! [_Resuming._] “Am off to Paris the first thing in the morning. Very likely this is the last chance you will ever have of a word with your poor little friend, Theo.” [_To_ SIR FLETCHER.] Sir Fletcher, I congratulate you on finding your niece; please tell her that it is impossible for me to grant her request. OLIVE. [_Calmly._] Oh, but wait. [_Rising._] Surely it would be rather uncivil to refuse what Mrs. Fraser asks. MRS. CLOYS. [_Rising._] I can be trusted to explain—— OLIVE. But she is apparently in need of some business service which my husband can render her. MRS. CLOYS. Now that she is again in the hands of her relatives there can be no necessity for troubling Mr. Allingham. SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD. Not the slightest; not the slightest. OLIVE. Perhaps not. But before such a very curt message is sent to Mrs. Fraser, will you do me the favour of letting me have two or three minutes’ conversation with my husband alone? MRS. CLOYS. I—I am anxious to go to my niece. OLIVE. Two minutes. Please, John. [JOHN _goes to the dining-room door and opens it. After a moment’s hesitation_, MRS. CLOYS _goes to the door_. MRS. CLOYS. [_Turning._] I beg that I may not be detained longer.