Run away to Mrs. Jack--ask her to let you share her room to-night.
[_Pointing to the writing-table._] Ah--! scribble a message--
[_The_ d.u.c.h.eSS _seats herself at the writing-table and writes agitatedly at his dictation._
QUEX.
[_Dictating._] "The d.u.c.h.ess of Strood has been seized with a dreadful fit of nerves and has gone to Mrs. Eden"s room. Come to her there at eight." Lay that upon the bed. [_Indicating the bedroom._] Is there a door in there?
d.u.c.h.eSS.
[_Rising breathlessly._] Yes.
QUEX.
Locked?
d.u.c.h.eSS.
Yes.
QUEX.
The key. [_Imperatively._] Give me the key. [_She runs into the bedroom and, having laid the written message upon the bed, disappears for a moment. He refills his tumbler and drinks, chuckling sardonically as he does so._] Ha, ha, ha! [_She returns with the key, which he pockets._]
The bell that rings in your maid"s room--? [_She points to the bell-rope hanging beside the pa.s.sage-door._] Good. [_Motioning to her to go_.]
Now--[_She is going towards the other door; he detains her._] Hist!
[_Thoughtfully._] If anything unusual should occur, remember that we were simply discussing books and pictures in the Italian garden before dinner.
d.u.c.h.eSS.
[_Intently._] Books and pictures--of course. [_In an outburst._] Oh, you are certain you can save my reputation?
QUEX.
[_Politely._] _Yours_ at least, my dear d.u.c.h.ess. Sleep well.
[_She is about to open the door when a thought strikes her and she again runs up to the bed._
d.u.c.h.eSS.
Ah--!
QUEX.
Hey?
[_She returns, carrying her night-dress case--a thing of white satin with a monogram and coronet embroidered upon it. She holds it up to him in explanation; he nods, and she lets herself out. He immediately locks the door at which she has departed and slips the key into his waistcoat pocket. This done, he pulls the bell-rope communicating with the maid"s room and takes up a position against the wall so that the opening of the pa.s.sage door conceals him from the view of the person entering. After a pause the door is opened and_ SOPHY _appears. The frills of her night-dress peep out from under the Mandarin"s robe, and she is wearing a pair of scarlet cloth slippers; altogether she presents an odd, fantastic figure. She pauses in the doorway hesitatingly, then steadies herself and, with a defiant air, stalks into the bedroom. Directly she has moved away,_ QUEX _softly closes the door, locks it, and pockets the key. Meanwhile_ SOPHY, _looking about the bedroom for the_ d.u.c.h.eSS, _discovers the paper upon the bed. She picks it up, reads it and replaces it, and, coming back into the boudoir, encounters_ QUEX.
SOPHY.
Oh!
QUEX.
[_With a careless nod._] Ah?
SOPHY.
[_Recovering herself, and speaking with a contemptuous smile._] So her Grace has packed herself off to Mrs. Eden"s room. [_Firmly._] Who rang for me, please?
QUEX.
_I_ rang.
SOPHY.
You? what for?
QUEX.
Oh, you and I are going to have a cosy little chat together.
SOPHY.
[_Haughtily._] I don"t understand you.
QUEX.
We"ll understand one another well enough, in a minute.
[_He lights another cigarette and seats himself upon the settee. She moves to the back of a chair, eyeing him distrustfully._
QUEX.
Now then! You"ve been at the key-hole, have you?
SOPHY.
[_Slightly embarra.s.sed._] Y--yes.
QUEX.
[_Sharply._] Eh?
SOPHY.
[_Defiantly._] Yes; you know I have.
QUEX.