Flying like a blind bat, from one quarter of London to another. I’ve got some business in hand, and no one will do more than gape or laugh at a fellow when he’s in terrible earnest. This cursed city! It soaks up the poor and the helpless like a sponge; but I’ll wring it dry yet--you’ll see if I don’t--you’ll see---- [_He twists the arm-chair round and sits facing the fire._] LESLIE. [_To HUGH, in a whisper._] I told you so--he is searching for her. HUGH MURRAY. Yes. LESLIE. What should I do if he found her! HUGH MURRAY. Nothing. Leave everything to chance. LESLIE. Chance! HUGH MURRAY. Chance is a fairer arbiter of our lives than we imagine. You are terribly ill. [_She shakes her head._] I have written into the country for some fruit for you; it should have arrived by this time, with this morning’s bloom on it. I’ll go and enquire. [_She offers her hand, which he merely touches._] Poor Will’s fast asleep. [_He goes out._] LESLIE. [_Bending over WILFRID._] Tired to death. Will, my dear brother, you are the only one left me now and you are drifting away from me. Your heart is no longer mine and your thoughts are no longer mine. It’s so hard to lose husband and brother at once! Come back to me--come back to me! [_JANET, looking very poor and ill, appears at the door._] LESLIE. Oh! Janet! JANET PREECE. Mrs. Renshaw. LESLIE. How do you come here? JANET PREECE. I’ve been keeping near you since you left Florence. Days ago I found out you were here, through watching your brother and Mr. Murray. If I’d sent my name up to you you’d have refused to see me, so I’ve been waiting my opportunity to steal into the hotel while the porter was absent. Don’t turn me away till you’ve heard me! LESLIE. Sit down, while I think for a moment. JANET PREECE. Thank you. LESLIE. [_To herself, looking at the arm-chair in which WILFRID is sleeping concealed from view._] Chance has brought them together again and Mr. Murray says that chance is a just arbiter. I’ll neither unite them nor keep them apart. Chance shall do everything for me. Well? Speak low, please. JANET PREECE. [_Pointing to door._] Your brother is not in there? LESLIE. No. What do you want of me? JANET PREECE. To tell you this. I’m going out to Australia in company with some poor farming people from down near home; I met them by chance here in London and it’s settled. We sail from Plymouth the day after to-morrow, and there’s an end o’ me. LESLIE. Can I--do anything--to help you? JANET PREECE. Oh, no, no. But before I go I’ve got to ease my mind of something that you must listen to. It’s this. I’ve parted you from your husband. Haven’t I? Haven’t I? LESLIE. Yes. JANET PREECE.