[_Under her breath._] Ah! [_He bows stiffly. She places the tumbler on the tray, tosses the handkerchief aside, and--first motioning him to stand away from the line of the door--opens the door, removes the ribbon from the handle, closes and locks it. Then she turns to him with a long-drawn sigh._] Ah--h--h! QUEX. [_Coming down gloomily._] Is it all right? DUCHESS. Quite. [_Advancing to him with outstretched hands._] Welcome, Harry! oh, welcome! QUEX. [_Retreating a few steps--firmly._] One moment. I have something to ask of you, Sidonia. [_Looking round._] You are sure--? DUCHESS. Yes, yes. Only don't raise your voice; [_glancing towards the door_] my maid sleeps in a room at the end of that passage. [_Gracefully seating herself upon the settee and motioning him to sit beside her._] Sit down. Oh, the woe of this final meeting! the pathos of it! QUEX. [_Bitterly, withdrawing the chair a little further from the table._] Yes, I agree with you--there is an element of wofulness in this meeting; it is not altogether without pathos. DUCHESS. Not altogether! QUEX. [_Sitting, facing her._] But, for yourself, my dear Sidonia--well, I have the consolation of believing that directly you turn your back upon Fauncey Court much of the wofulness of your position will evaporate. DUCHESS. Harry! QUEX. Forgive me--you admit that you delight in colouring even the most ordinary events of life rather highly. If I may put it more roughly, you are disposed, my dear Sidonia--at times, perhaps, a little inopportunely--to burn a good deal of red fire. [_Leaning forward._] At any rate, I beg an especial favour of you to-night. DUCHESS. What--? QUEX. [_Distinctly._] No red fire. DUCHESS. [_Chilled._] Is this the something you had to ask of me? [_He bows in assent._] I cannot remember ever having seen you in this mood. QUEX. This is our first actual _tête-à-tête_ since my engagement to Miss Eden. DUCHESS. Oh, I understand. QUEX. And now shall I tell you where the wofulness and the pathos most conspicuously display themselves on this occasion? DUCHESS. If you wish to. QUEX. In the confounded treachery of my being here at all. DUCHESS. Treachery? QUEX. You know I am under a bond of good behaviour to my old aunt and to the Edens. DUCHESS. [_With a slight shrug of the shoulders._] Really? QUEX. Yes. [_Clenching his teeth._] And this is how I observe it. After all my resolutions, this--this is how I observe it. [_He rises and paces up and down the room._ DUCHESS. [_Fretfully._] I am bound to remark that your present behaviour appears quite unimpeachable. QUEX. Unimpeachable! here--alone--in your company! DUCHESS. [_Covering her eyes with her hand._] Oh, cruel, cruel! QUEX. [_Pausing._] Cruel--? DUCHESS. [_With heaving bosom._] But there! if you deny me the possession of real feeling, why should you hesitate to rain blows on me? QUEX. [_Softening, coming to her._] My dear Sidonia, I don't--I don't mean to-- DUCHESS.