You look ill. Sit down. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. I have been ill, in Florence, and haven’t had strength to struggle back to England till now. HUGH MURRAY. I’m sorry. What do you want of me? DUNSTAN RENSHAW. Friendship. If you’re not my friend I haven’t one in the world. Murray, you know where _she_ is? HUGH MURRAY. Yes--I know. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. Tell me--tell me! HUGH MURRAY. I can’t tell you. I--I may not tell you. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. Ah! I appeal to you. Exact any promise from me--be as hard on me as you please--only tell me, tell me! [_HUGH is silent._] Ah, you don’t know what you’re doing. I am mad. Night and day I see nothing but her face as it looked on me when she sent me from her; night and day I hear nothing but that one word “Go,” the last she spoke to me. The word won’t let me sleep; it beats so on my brain. Another word, a simple message, from her might drive it out. Only tell me where she is! My wife, Murray--my wife! HUGH MURRAY. I would tell you of my own will. But I can’t break faith with her. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. She has not softened towards me then a little--a little, Murray? HUGH MURRAY. Man, you must have patience. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. Patience! HUGH MURRAY. You must wait. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. Wait! It is a hundred years since I lost her--a hundred years, and she has not softened towards me just a little. [_He sits gazing vacantly upon the ground._] HUGH MURRAY. [_To himself._] Surely she would pity him if she saw him now, and if I can reconcile them it is my duty. I’ll do my best; it will be my consolation to have done my best. [_To DUNSTAN._] Where are you going when you leave me to-night? DUNSTAN RENSHAW. Let me rest here, in your room, for a few hours. HUGH MURRAY. Have you left your hotel? DUNSTAN RENSHAW. I am staying nowhere; I have been walking the streets till I came here. HUGH MURRAY. I’ll order you a room in this house. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. No, no. It’s only here I can rest. I shall rest here. HUGH MURRAY. Why here? DUNSTAN RENSHAW. Because I shall feel sure that a friend’s eyes will look on me in the morning. HUGH MURRAY. Ring for what you want, otherwise the servants won’t disturb you. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. [_To himself._] Won’t disturb me--won’t disturb me. No. HUGH MURRAY. I’ll leave you now. Good-night. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. You will not tell me where she is? HUGH MURRAY. Till I have her permission, I cannot. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. You mean that, guessing I should follow her, she has taken precautions to avoid me--to avoid me? Your face answers me. HUGH MURRAY. [_To himself._] She will relent--I know she will relent. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. I shan’t see you again to-night, Murray. HUGH MURRAY. No--you’ll not see _me_. Good night. DUNSTAN RENSHAW. Good-bye. HUGH MURRAY. [_To himself._] But you shall see _her_; I know she will relent. [_He goes out._] DUNSTAN RENSHAW.