I won't. [_With a slight inclination of the head_ QUEX _turns away and stands leaning against the settee with his back towards_ SOPHY. _The clock strikes the quarter-of-an-hour. There is a short silence._] If your lordship has quite done with me--? [_He makes no response. She tosses her head._] I wish you good-night, my lord. [_She goes to the passage-door and turns the handle._] It's locked. This door's locked. [_Looking at him._] The door's locked. [_Rattling at the door-handle._] Where's the key? [_Searching about on the floor near the door._] Where's the--? [_Coming forward a step or two._] Has your lordship got the key of this door? [_Still obtaining no answer, she stands staring at him for a moment; then she goes quickly to the other door and tries the handle. As she does so,_ QUEX _turns sharply and, leaning upon the back of the settee, watches her. After shaking the door-handle vigorously, she wheels round and faces him, indignantly._] What's the meaning of this? QUEX. [_Grimly._] Ah! SOPHY. Oh--! [_She sweeps round to avoid him, and then runs into the bedroom. When she has gone he seats himself in the chair by the writing-table in a lazy attitude, his legs stretched out, his hands in his pockets. After a moment or two she returns breathlessly._] I'm locked in! QUEX. Yes. SOPHY. You have locked me in! QUEX. Yes. SOPHY. How dare you! QUEX. Why, you didn't think you were going to have it _all_ your own way, did you, Sophy? SOPHY. I'll thank you to be less familiar. Let me out. QUEX. Not I. SOPHY. You let me out directly. QUEX. [_Pointing a finger at her._] You'll gain nothing by raging, my good girl. Ha! now you appreciate the curiously awkward position in which you have placed yourself. SOPHY. I've placed myself in no-- QUEX. Oh, come, come! Taking me at my blackest, I'm not quite the kind of man that a young woman who prides herself upon her respectability desires to be mixed up with in this fashion. SOPHY. Mixed up with! QUEX. Well--[_stretching out his arms_] here we are, you know. SOPHY. Here we are! QUEX. You and I, dear Sophy. [_Putting his leg over the arm of his chair._] Now just sit down-- SOPHY. I sha'n't. QUEX. While I picture to you what will happen in the morning. SOPHY. In the morning? QUEX. In a few hours' time. In the first place, you will be called in your room. You won't be there. SOPHY. Won't I! QUEX. No. You won't be there. A little later my man will come to _my_ room. I sha'n't be there. At about the same hour, her Grace will require your attendance. Where will _you_ be? She will then, naturally, desire to return to her own apartments. You are intelligent enough, I fancy, to imagine the rest. [_After a brief pause, she breaks into a peal of soft, derisive laughter._] I am deeply flattered by your enjoyment of the prospect. SOPHY. Ha, ha, ha! why, you must take me for a fool! QUEX. Why? SOPHY.