Wilfrid, my boy, Wilfrid; there’s something better to do than to be revenged. WILFRID BRUDENELL. How easy it is, Murray, for an onlooker to be charitable! HUGH MURRAY. Hush, my boy! Don’t you see that there is no future for her except one of reconciliation with her husband? WILFRID BRUDENELL. Reconciliation! HUGH MURRAY. Her ideal is destroyed, her illusions are gone, but time will send Renshaw’s sins further and further into the distance, and habit will teach her never to look back. WILFRID BRUDENELL. Murray, you don’t know! You argue like a lawyer who has to patch up a mere wrangle between husband and wife. HUGH MURRAY. I don’t know! WILFRID BRUDENELL. You don’t know what it is to have the heart plucked out of you and trampled upon! HUGH MURRAY. Wilfrid, be silent! WILFRID BRUDENELL. How can you, living your level, humdrum life, gauge the penalty paid by those who love what is worth so much and yet so little! Ah, Murray, wait till you love and lose, as we have lost! HUGH MURRAY. Wait! [_LESLIE enters unnoticed._] Wait! Do you think you can read me a lesson in despair? Come to me when your boy’s passion has grown cold and I’ll describe to you the agony of a man’s hungry, hopeless, endless devotion. WILFRID BRUDENELL. Murray! HUGH MURRAY. I love your sister! I have loved her from the moment I first saw her in the school-garden at Helmstead; but I loved her too reverently to disturb the simplicity of her childhood, and I waited. I waited! Waited for him to scorch into her cheeks the first flame of consciousness--waited for her to make him her idol--waited for him to break her heart! Waited for this! [_He sits with his face buried in his hands._] WILFRID BRUDENELL. Murray--forgive me. I never thought of this. If we could have been brothers! HUGH MURRAY. Sssh! It is always as it is now, Will. Women love men whose natures are like bright colours--the homespun of life repels them. They delight to hear their fate in the cadences of a musical voice, thinking they are listening to an impromptu; it’s too late when they learn that the melody has been composed by Experience and scored by other women’s tears. [_LESLIE reveals herself._] WILFRID BRUDENELL. My sister! HUGH MURRAY. Mrs. Renshaw! I fear--you have heard. LESLIE. Yes. HUGH MURRAY. I never meant you to know; I meant to carry it with me silently and patiently. The sorrow is mine--mine only. LESLIE. I--I can say nothing--nothing. Good-night. We will not meet to-morrow--I shall be gone early. HUGH MURRAY. Good-night. LESLIE. I shall never cease to pray for your good fortune. God bless you, Mr. Murray! [_LESLIE gives HUGH her hand, then she and WILFRID go out together. There is a knock at the door. A servant brings HUGH a card._] HUGH MURRAY. Yes. [_The servant goes out._] HUGH MURRAY. Renshaw. [_The servant ushers in DUNSTAN RENSHAW, who looks broken and walks feebly._] DUNSTAN RENSHAW. Speak to me, Murray. HUGH MURRAY.