Ha, we didn’t calculate for this when we arranged our ingenious little plan last night! We were to restore Mrs. Fraser’s name and position to her untarnished; we were to set poor little Humpty-Dumpty up again by—when was it?—Goodwood week; all in return for your ten minutes’ fun in there! We were damned generous, you and I—only we reckoned without Mrs. Fraser! [_Starting up._] And so, you see, after all, we’ve had our fun, and enjoyed it, and yet pay nothing for it! But, at the same time, we mustn’t forget that in this world everything has to be paid for by somebody. By Jove, there’s no doubt as to who stands treat for last night! Mrs. Fraser pays! that poor little, broken-down woman pays! _She_ pays——! OLIVE. [_Rising._] You blame me beyond all reason! I’ll not put up with it! Why didn’t you call her aunt into the room last night when you saw Mrs. Fraser becoming wilder and wilder? [_Walking away._] Pah! you appeared moonstruck! moonstruck! JOHN. I thought I might save her from meeting her people while she was so unlike herself. You know I was helpless——[_She approaches; he seizes her by the shoulders._] You—you reproach me! Why didn’t you strike that bell sooner? why didn’t you strike it sooner? [_Leaving her, and throwing himself into a chair._] Ah, you weren’t capable even of that! OLIVE. [_Tearfully, rubbing her shoulders._] Oh, John——! JOHN. I beg your pardon. OLIVE. [_Going to him slowly, leaning against the balustrade._] John—— JOHN. Well? OLIVE. I will confess it to you—I didn’t strike the bell at all. JOHN. You—did not? OLIVE. I was under the impression I had stopped the clock before I sat down to listen, but in my agitation I must have shaken it and started it again. [_Kneeling beside_ JOHN’S _chair_.] The clock struck of its own accord. JOHN. And you sat there, drinking in every word; and when the poor creature had cleared herself, and _satisfied_ you, still you made no effort——! [_Rising._] Oh! OLIVE. [_Seizing his coat._] John, I _couldn’t_ move from that curtain! I was a wretch! Pity me! I _couldn’t_ stir! [JOHN _walks away. She rises from the ground and sits._] Oh, get me a carriage of some sort to take me to the station. JOHN. [_Going towards the bell._] I’ll tell Quaife. [_Pausing, looking at her._] I don’t know—I can’t imagine—how you are going to get through your life—— OLIVE.