WILLIAM. —And I set myself from that day on to live for one thing only, Oliver Blayds. It was a great pride to me to be his son-in-law, a great pride to be his secretary, but the greatest pride of all was the thought that I was helping others to know and to love, as I knew and loved him, that very great poet, that very great man, Oliver Blayds. You tell me now that he is—(_he snaps his fingers_)—nothing. A hollow mask. (_His voice rises_) I think I have some right to be angry; I think I have some right to bear resentment against this man who has tricked me, who has been making a fool of me for all these years. When I think of the years of labour which I have spent already in getting the materials together for this great man’s life; when I think how I have listened to him and taken down eagerly his every word; when I think that to-morrow I am to be held up to the derision of the world for the gullible fool I have shown myself to be, I think I have a right to be angry. (_With a great effort he controls himself and goes on more quietly_) But I have tried to control my feelings. I have remembered that he was your father and Marion’s father, and I have tried to control myself. To forget my own feelings, and to consider only how best to clear up this wreckage that Oliver Blayds has left behind. It is not for you to scorn me, me who have been the chief one to suffer. MARION. Poor Father! (_She puts out a hand._) WILLIAM (_patting it_). That’s all right. I don’t want pity. I just want Isobel to try to realise what it means to me. OLIVER. Yes, by Jove, it is a bit rough on the governor. SEPTIMA. Rough on all of us. MARION. But your father has suffered most. You must always remember that. ISOBEL. Poor William! Yes, it is hard on you. Your occupation’s gone. WILLIAM. It is a terrible blow to us all, this dreadful news that you have given us. But you can understand that to me it is absolutely crushing. ISOBEL (_in a whisper_). And to me? (_They look at her in surprise._) What has it been to me? WILLIAM. Well, as I was saying—— ISOBEL. You have enjoyed your life here, yes, every moment of it. If you hadn’t been secretary to Oliver Blayds, you would have been secretary to somebody else—it’s what you’re best fitted for. Yes, you have lived your life; you have had interests, a hundred interests every day to keep you active and eager.... (_Almost to herself_) But I say, what of me? What has my life been? Look at me now—what am I?—a wasted woman. I might have been a wife, a mother—with a man of my own, children of my own, in my own home. Look at me now...! MARION. My dear, I never dreamt—— ISOBEL (_eighteen years away from them all_). He asked me to marry him. Tall and straight and clean he was, and he asked me to marry him. Ah, how happy we should have been together, he and I—should we not have been happy? He asked me to marry him. MARION. Isobel!