WELLWYN. You said yourself her best friends couldn't wish her better! [Dropping his voice still more.] Everybody feels it! The Vicar was here a few minutes ago saying the very same thing--the Vicar, Constable! [The CONSTABLE shakes his head.] Ah! now, look here, I know something of her. Nothing can be done with her. We all admit it. Don't you see? Well, then hang it--you needn't go and make fools of us all by---- FERRAND. Monsieur, it is the first of April. CONSTABLE. [With a sharp glance at him.] Can't neglect me duty, sir; that's impossible. WELLWYN. Look here! She--slipped. She's been telling me. Come, Constable, there's a good fellow. May be the making of her, this. CONSTABLE. I quite appreciate your good 'eart, sir, an' you make it very 'ard for me--but, come now! I put it to you as a gentleman, would you go back on yer duty if you was me? [WELLWYN raises his hat, and plunges his fingers through and through his hair.] WELLWYN. Well! God in heaven! Of all the d---d topsy--turvy--! Not a soul in the world wants her alive--and now she's to be prosecuted for trying to be where everyone wishes her. CONSTABLE. Come, sir, come! Be a man! [Throughout all this MRS. MEGAN has sat stolidly before the fire, but as FERRAND suddenly steps forward she looks up at him.] FERRAND. Do not grieve, Monsieur! This will give her courage. There is nothing that gives more courage than to see the irony of things. [He touches MRS. MEGAN'S shoulder.] Go, my child; it will do you good. [MRS. MEGAN rises, and looks at him dazedly.] CONSTABLE. [Coming forward, and taking her by the hand.] That's my good lass. Come along! We won't hurt you. MRS. MEGAN. I don't want to go. They'll stare at me. CONSTABLE. [Comforting.] Not they! I'll see to that. WELLWYN. [Very upset.] Take her in a cab, Constable, if you must --for God's sake! [He pulls out a shilling.] Here! CONSTABLE. [Taking the shilling.] I will, sir, certainly. Don't think I want to---- WELLWYN. No, no, I know. You're a good sort. CONSTABLE. [Comfortable.] Don't you take on, sir. It's her first try; they won't be hard on 'er. Like as not only bind 'er over in her own recogs. not to do it again. Come, my dear. MRS. MEGAN. [Trying to free herself from the policeman's cloak.] I want to take this off. It looks so funny. [As she speaks the door is opened by ANN; behind whom is dimly seen the form of old TIMSON, still heading the curious persons.] ANN. [Looking from one to the other in amazement.] What is it? What's happened? Daddy! FERRAND. [Out of the silence.] It is nothing, Ma'moiselle! She has failed to drown herself. They run her in a little. WELLWYN. Lend her your jacket, my dear; she'll catch her death. [ANN, feeling MRS. MEGAN's arm, strips of her jacket, and helps her into it without a word.] CONSTABLE. [Donning his cloak.] Thank you. Miss--very good of you, I'm sure.