LORD LOAM (vaguely). Quite so--quite so. (CRICHTON announces dinner, and they file out. LADY MARY stays behind a moment and impulsively holds out her hand.)
LADY MARY. To wish you every dear happiness.
CRICHTON (an enigma to the last.) The same to you, my lady.
LADY MARY. Do you despise me, Crichton? (The man who could never tell a lie makes no answer.) You are the best man among us.
CRICHTON. On an island, my lady, perhaps; but in England, no.
LADY MARY. Then there"s something wrong with England.
CRICHTON. My lady, not even from you can I listen to a word against England.
LADY MARY. Tell me one thing: you have not lost your courage?
CRICHTON. No, my lady.
(She goes. He turns out the lights.)