(_He bends, fastening the spur. Ruth goes slowly to Ephraim, takes the paper and hesitates as if intending to tear it, then jerks her head and takes it to Guy, who accepts, straightening himself and pocketing it._) Guy. Ah! That's all right. Ephraim (_who has been filling three wine glasses, rising with glass_). Here's to your ride, Guy. Guy (_coming to table and filling a fourth glass_). I'll give you a better toast than that. The factory. (_Passing Ruth glass._) Ephraim. (John and Guy). Ruth! (_drinking together_). The factory. (_Ruth hesitates, meets Guy's eye until he masters her._) Ruth. The factory. (_She gulps as if taking poison. Guy drinks his glass off and goes to door._) CURTAIN. ACT III _A rough road terminates in the quarry whose hewn crags rise high at the right. Below them, behind the road is an old shed of planks, open to the front. To the left, the quarrying has caused a steep dip. The road ends, the rock descends to it and beyond, so that the opposite side of the valley below is visible, seen dimly in the night. Gorse and heather grow over the deserted workings. There is no moon, but the lighting is sufficiently strong for faces to be seen._ _Ruth, warmly clad, sits on a stone by the shed, a lighted lantern at her feet. After a moment, Martin, without greatcoat, enters._ ***** Ruth (_as he comes_). Are you there, Martin? Martin. I am here. Ruth (_rising, nervously_). I had begun to fear you would not come. Martin. I know I'm late. To-night I'd work to do, for once in my useless life. Ruth. Don't be bitter, Martin. Martin. The bitterness is past. My work is done, well done. I came when I was free to come, Mrs. Barlow. Ruth. Is it to be names like that between us two? Martin. I don't know what there is between us two, save that I got a message from your mother to meet you here. Ruth. I chose this place because we used to meet here often. Martin. In happier days. Ruth. I chose it to remind you of them. Martin (_bitterly_). I don't need to be reminded. I'm striving to forget. I want to kill their memory and I can't. Ruth. I thought you had. Martin. And why? Ruth. Last night. Martin. What has last night to do with it? Ruth. It seemed to me last night that you'd forgotten. Martin. It always seems to me that you forget. Ruth. I? It's you forget. Forget our hope of happiness together and why we gave it up, forget the terms on which I gave myself to him. Martin. Your plan, your terms. Not mine. Ruth. We both agreed that it was best. Martin. Well, if we did? Now you've had your way, now you are Guy Barlow's wife? Have you done anything? Does the plan work, or----? Ruth (_interrupting_). It all takes time. (_Martin moves impatiently._) And you agreed to that. That it would take time. That I was to be given my chance. And now, last night, you spoilt it all. You---- Martin (_harshly_). Your plan's been tried and failed. You've done nothing. Less than nothing. Things have gone worse----