"Upon any pretext whatsoever. Yours respectfully--" [_After watching the completion of the letter._] Date it vaguely--[_with a wave of the hand_] "Monday afternoon." Blot it. [_Moving away._] That's right. [_She rises, reading the letter with staring eyes. Then she comes to him and yields the letter, and he folds it neatly and puts it into his breast-pocket._] Thank you. I think I need detain you no longer. SOPHY. [_With a gasp._] Ah! stop a bit! no, I won't! QUEX. What's the matter with you? SOPHY. [_Wildly._] Why, it's like selling Muriel! Just to get myself out of this, I'm simply handing her over to you! I won't do it! I won't! [_She rushes to the bell-rope and tugs at it again and again._] She sha'n't marry you! she sha'n't! I've said she sha'n't, and she sha'n't! [_Leaving the bell-rope and facing him fiercely._] Oh, let your precious Duchess go scot-free! After all, what does it matter who the woman is you've been sporting with, so that Miss Muriel is kept from falling into your clutches! Yes, I'll make short work of _you_, my lord. The ladies shall hear from _my_ mouth of the lively half-hour I've spent with you, and how I've suddenly funked the consequences and _raised a hullabaloo_! Now, my lord! now then! now then! [_His astonishment has given way to admiration; he gazes at her as if spell-bound._ QUEX. [_After a pause, during which she stands before him panting._] By God, you're a fine plucked 'un! I've never known a better. [_Resolutely._] No, my girl, I'm damned if you shall suffer! Quick! listen! pull yourself together! SOPHY. [_Hysterically._] Eh? eh? QUEX. [_Taking her letter from his pocket and thrusting it into her hand._] Here's your letter! take it--I won't have it. [_Going quickly to the passage-door, unlocking it, and throwing the door open._] There you are! SOPHY. [_Sobbing._] Oh! oh! [_There is a hurried, irregular knocking at the door._ QUEX. [_Gripping her arm._] Hush! [_In a whisper._] Call out--wait! SOPHY. [_Raising her voice--unsteadily._] Wait--one moment! QUEX. [_In her ear, as he gives her the key of the door._] Say the Duchess is with Mrs. Jack; say she wants her letters brought to her in the morning; say anything-- SOPHY. Yes, yes. [_Weeping and shaking and gasping, she goes to the door and unlocks it. He tip-toes into the bedroom and turns out the light there. She opens the door an inch or two._] Yes? TWO VOICES. [_A mans and a woman's._] What is it? what's the matter? SOPHY. [_Steadying herself, with an effort._] Nothing. Only her Grace has gone to Mrs. Eden's room and wishes her letters taken there in the morning most particularly--see? THE VOICES. What did you ring like that for? Thought the place was afire! SOPHY. Oh, don't make a fuss about nothing. You servants _are_ an old-fashioned lot. Bong swor! THE VOICES. [_Angrily._] Oh, good-night. SOPHY. Ha, ha, ha! [_She closes the door and totters away from it, sobbing hysterically, as_ QUEX _comes to her._ QUEX.