JOHN. Supposing I—consented, and you were—satisfied——? OLIVE. [_Rising and speaking earnestly and rapidly._] We are in June; I would have her to stay with me. My friends, her own friends, should see that we were close companions. She should go everywhere with me; my arm should always be through hers. I would get a crowd together; she should receive my guests with me. Oh, by Goodwood week her reputation should be as sound as any woman’s in England! Come! think of the dreadful days and nights she’s given me, whether she’s good or bad! Come! wouldn’t that be generous? JOHN. [_In a low voice._] Look here! you would swear to me you’d never use against her anything that might arise during our meeting—I mean anything that your cursed jealousy could twist into harm? OLIVE. Solemnly. If she proclaimed herself openly in this room to be your—[_with a stamp of the foot he rises_]—she should go scot-free, for me. If she behaved as an innocent woman, she might walk over me in the future, trample on me; I’d be a slave to her. Only satisfy me! [_He goes to the writing-table, and rapidly scribbles a note. She watches him with eager eyes. When he has finished writing, he takes an envelope, rises, comes to_ OLIVE, _and holds the note up before her_. JOHN. “Come to the cottage.—J. A.” [_She inclines her head. He touches the bell-press. Then he encloses the note in the envelope, which he fastens, and hands to_ OLIVE. OLIVE. Why? JOHN. Take it. [_She takes it wonderingly._] I have met your demands so far. Now, if you wish to do a womanly thing, you’ll throw that on the fire. [QUAIFE _enters_; OLIVE _stands staring before her. Speaking in measured tones, keeping his eyes on_ OLIVE.] Quaife, the note which Mrs. Allingham will give you is for the messenger. QUAIFE. Yes, sir. JOHN. If a lady arrives, ask her to sit down in the card-room; let me know when she comes. I am alone, should the lady make any inquiries. QUAIFE. Very good, sir. JOHN. Olive, Quaife is waiting for the note. [_There is a pause; then_ OLIVE _turns suddenly and hands_ QUAIFE _the note. He goes out. There is another pause._] And after this—after this!—you and I! Upon what terms do you imagine you and I will be after this? OLIVE. Oh, if she comes out of it well, I will be so good to her—— JOHN. [_Contemptuously._] Ah——! OLIVE.