Thank you, my dear. But you're not far wrong--I was a blackguard till I met Miss Eden; and now, losing Miss Eden, perhaps I'm going to be a bigger blackguard than before. At the same time, you know, there's not much to choose between us; for you're a low spy, an impudent, bare-faced liar, a common kitchen-cat who wriggles into the best rooms, gets herself fondled, and then spits. [_Passing her and throwing himself, full-length, upon the settee and settling himself to read._] Therefore I've no compunction in making you pay your share of this score, my dear Sophy--none whatever. [_She walks feebly to the passage-door and stands rattling the handle in an uncertain way. At last she breaks down and cries a little._ SOPHY. Oh! oh! oh! let me go, my lord. [_He makes no response._] Do let me go--please! will you? [_Approaching him and wiping her eyes upon the sleeve of her night-dress._] I hope your lordship will kindly let me go. QUEX. [_Shortly._] No. SOPHY. [_Steadying herself._] I don't want to rouse the house at this time o' night if I can help it-- QUEX. Don't you? SOPHY. Though I am certain I can make my story good anyway. But I'd rather your lordship let me out without the bother--[_Piteously._] Do! [_He turns a leaf of his book. She speaks defiantly._] Very well! very well! here I sit then! [_Seating herself._] We'll see who tires first, you or I! you or I! [_Again snapping her fingers at him._] Bah! you horror! you--horror! QUEX. [_Raising himself on his elbow._] Will you have this sofa? [_She gives him a fierce look._] A glass of your wine? [_She rises, with a stamp of the foot, and once more paces the room. He sips his wine and re-settles himself. She goes distractedly from one object to another, now leaning upon a chair, then against the pillar of the cheval-glass. Ultimately she comes to the bell-rope and fingers it again irresolutely._ SOPHY. [_Faintly._] My lord--! [_He remains silent. She releases the bell-rope._] Oh--h--h! [_She pauses by the settee, looking down upon him as though she would strike him; then she walks away, and, seating herself in the chair by the bedside, drops her head upon the bed. The clock tinkles the half-hour. There is a short silence. Suddenly she rises, uttering a sharp cry, with her hand to her heart._] Oh! [_panting_] oh! oh! QUEX. [_Looking at her._] What now? SOPHY. Valma! QUEX. Valma? SOPHY. Mr. Valma! oh, you know he is in the house! QUEX. He! what's he doing here? SOPHY. The housekeeper gave him permission to sleep here. You know! [_Stamping her foot._] Don't you know? QUEX. [_Sitting up, alertly._] Ho! my jealous friend, the palmist. _He_ is on the premises, hey? SOPHY. [_Distractedly._] Let me out! oh, yes, he _is_ jealous of me; he _is_ jealous of me, and we've had a few words about you as it is-- QUEX. Ah! SOPHY.