Oh, please! I’ve been lectured by Mrs. Fraser, Oh, there are heaps of solitary women in the world; some people envy them. [_He sits upon the settee._] Now that—now that—the chances of our coming together again have fallen through, I shall be off out of London at once. Where can one go to at this time of the year? JOHN. [_Abstractedly._] Eh? Er—it’s a bit early for most places. OLIVE. I’m going to Aix in August. JOHN. [_Looking up._] You are? OLIVE. Oh! Why, did _you_ think of——? JOHN. Yes. But it doesn’t matter. OLIVE. Oh, I don’t want to interfere with your—— JOHN. Aix is a pretty big place. OLIVE. Where will you stay? JOHN. I’ve been told, the “Splendide”—— OLIVE. Oh——! JOHN. What? OLIVE. I can easily put up elsewhere. JOHN. You needn’t. I dare say the “Splendide” is quite large enough for two people who—who—— OLIVE. Who want to keep far apart. [_Rising, and going towards the door, pausing by the head of the settee._] How ridiculous that reconciliation of ours last night! Why, how many weeks should we have been together? JOHN. [_His head resting upon his hands._] Not many—not many, I’m afraid. OLIVE. Weeks! Days, I should have said—or hours. “Heaven have mercy upon us! we’re reconciled!” Do you remember—last night——? JOHN. Ha! yes. OLIVE. “Heaven have mercy upon us!” Ha, ha! JOHN. Heaven have mercy on us! OLIVE. [_Wiping the tears from her eyes._] I—I’ll go and put my bonnet on. [_He rises, and she holds out her hand._] Good-bye, John. JOHN. [_Taking her hand, looking away._] Good-bye. OLIVE. [_Suddenly drawing back._] Oh——! JOHN. What? OLIVE. [_Breathlessly._] Oh, yes——! JOHN. Olive? OLIVE. Ah—h—h—h, you’ll find plenty of pretty women at Aix——! QUAIFE _enters, showing in_ MRS. EMPTAGE _and_ CLAUDE. QUAIFE _retires_. MRS. EMPTAGE _is in a bright and fashionable morning dress_. MRS. EMPTAGE.