_She looks sideways at him, as he goes on mechanically tearing the envelopes._ FRANCES. I heard you come upstairs about two o'clock. TREBELL. That was to dip my head in water. Then I made an instinctive attempt to go to bed ... got my tie off even. FRANCES. [_Her anxiety breaking out._] If you'd tell me that you're only ill.... TREBELL. [_Forbiddingly commonplace._] What's that letter? Don't fuss ... and remember that abnormal conduct is sometimes quite rational. FRANCES _returns to her task with misty eyes._ FRANCES. It's from somebody whose son can't get into something. TREBELL. The third heap ... Kent's ... the preposterous. [_Talking on with steady monotony._] But I saw it would not do to interrupt that logical train of thought which reached definition about half past six. I had then been gleaning until you came in. FRANCES. [_Turning the neat little note in her hand._] This is from Lord Horsham. He writes his name small at the bottom of the envelope. TREBELL. [_Without a tremor._] Ah ... give it me. _He opens this as he has opened the others, carefully putting the envelope to one side._ FRANCES _has ceased for the moment to watch him._ FRANCES. That's Cousin Robert's handwriting. [_She puts a square envelope at his hand._] Is a letter marked private from the Education Office political or personal? _By this he has read_ HORSHAM'S _letter twice. So he tears it up and speaks very coldly._ TREBELL. Either. It doesn't matter. _In the silence her fears return._ FRANCES. Henry, it's a foolish idea ... I suppose I have it because I hardly slept for thinking of her. Your trouble is nothing to do with Amy O'Connell, is it? TREBELL. [_His voice strangled in his throat._] Her child should have been my child too. FRANCES. [_Her eyes open, the whole landscape of her mind suddenly clear._] Oh, I ... no, I didn't think so ... but.... TREBELL. [_Dealing his second blow as remorselessly as dealt to him._] Also I'm not joining the new Cabinet, my dear sister. FRANCES. [_Her thoughts rushing now to the present--the future._] Not! Because of...? Do people know? Will they...? You didn't...? _As mechanically as ever he has taken up_ COUSIN ROBERT'S _letter and, in some sense, read it. Now he recapitulates, meaninglessly, that his voice may just deaden her pain and his own._