GEOFFREY. In matters of common decency, yes. My wife does not associate herself with movements for the encouragement of vice. (_There is another moment’s silence_.) ANNYS. But, Geoffrey, dear—we should not be encouraging the evil. We should still seek to find the man, to punish him. The woman would still suffer— GEOFFREY. My dear Annys, this is neither the time nor place for you and me to argue out the matter. I must ask you to trust to my judgment. ANNYS. I can understand your refusing, but why do you object to my— GEOFFREY. Because I do not choose for my wife’s name to be linked with a movement that I regard as criminal. I forbid it. (_It was the moment that was bound to come_. _The man’s instincts_, _training_, _have involuntarily asserted themselves_. _Shall the woman yield_? _If so_, _then down goes the whole movement—her claim to freedom of judgment_, _of action_, _in all things_. _All watch the struggle with breathless interest_.) ANNYS. (_She speaks very slowly_, _very quietly_, _but with a new note in her voice_.) I am sorry, but I have given much thought to this matter, and—I do not agree with you. MRS. PEEKIN. You will help us? ANNYS. I will do what I can. PEEKIN. (_He takes from his pocket a folded paper_.) It is always so much more satisfactory when these things are in writing. Candidates, with the best intentions in the world, are apt to forget. (_He has spread the paper on a corner of the table_. _He has in his hand his fountain-pen_.) ANNYS. (_With a smile_.) I am not likely to forget, but if you wish it—(_She approaches the table_.) GEOFFREY. (_He interposes_. _His voice is very low_, _almost a whisper_.) My wife will not sign. ANNYS. (_She also speaks low_, _but there is no yielding in her voice_.) I am not only your wife. I have a duty also to others. GEOFFREY. It is for you to choose. (_He leaves the way open to her_.) (_The silence can almost be felt_. _She moves to the table_, _takes up the paper_. _It contains but a few lines of writing_. _Having read it_, _she holds out her hand for the pen_. PEEKIN _puts it in her hand_. _With a firm hand she signs_, _folds the paper_, _and returns it to him_. _She remains standing by the table_. _With the removal of the tension there comes a rustle_, _a breaking of the silence_.) MISS RICKETTS. (_She seizes_ ANNYS’S _hand_, _hanging listlessly by her side_, _and_, _stooping_, _kisses it_.) MISS BORLASSE. That is all, isn’t it? PEEKIN. We thank you, Mrs. Chilvers. Good afternoon. ANNYS. (_The natural reaction is asserting itself_. _She pulls herself together sufficiently to murmur her answer_.) Good afternoon. MRS. PEEKIN. (_The_ DEPUTATION _is moving away_; _she takes from her waist a small bunch of flowers_, _and_, _turning_, _places them in_ ANNYS’S _hand_.) ANNYS. (_She smiles_, _remains standing silent_, _the flowers in her hand_.)