GERTRUDE. Don"t you know it? Who made you that gown?
AGNES. Bardini.
GERTRUDE. I shouldn"t have credited the little woman with such excellent ideas.
AGNES. Oh, Lucas gave her the idea when he--when he--
GERTRUDE. When he ordered it?
AGNES. Yes.
GERTRUDE. Oh, the whole thing came as a surprise to you?
AGNES. Er--quite.
GERTRUDE. I noticed the box this afternoon when I called.
AGNES. Mr. Cleeve wishes me to appear more like--more like--
GERTRUDE. An ordinary smart woman. [Contemptuously.] Well, you ought to find no difficulty in managing that. You can make yourself very charming, it appears.
[AGNES again reaches out a hand towards the wine. GERTRUDE pours a very little wine into the wine-gla.s.s and takes up the gla.s.s; AGNES holds out her hand to receive it.]
GERTRUDE. Do you mind my drinking from your gla.s.s?
AGNES. [Staring at her.] No.
[GERTRUDE empties the gla.s.s and then places it, in a marked way, on the side of the table farthest from AGNES.]
GERTRUDE. [With a little shudder.] Ugh! Ugh! [AGNES moves away from GERTRUDE, to the end of the settee, her head bowed, her hands clenched.] I have something to propose. Come home with me tomorrow.
AGNES. [After a pause, raising her head.] Home--?
GERTRUDE. Ketherick. The very spot for a woman who wants to shut out things. Miles and miles of wild moorland! For company, purple heath and moss-covered granite, in summer; in winter, the moor-fowl and the snow glistening on top of the crags. Oh, and for open-air music, our little church owns the sweetest little peal of bells--! [AGNES rises, disturbed.] Ah, I can"t promise you their silence! Indeed, I"m very much afraid that on a still Sunday you can even hear the sound of the organ quite a long distance off. I am the organist when I"m at home.
That"s Ketherick. Will you come? [The distant tinkling of mandolin and guitar is again heard.]
AGNES. Listen to that. The mandolinisti! You talk of the sound of your church organ, and I hear his music.
GERTRUDE. His music?
AGNES. The music he is fond of; the music that gives him the thoughts that please him, soothe him.
GERTRUDE. [Listening--humming the words of the air, contemptuously: "Bell"amore deh! Porgi l"orecchio, ad un canto che parte del cuore . . ."] Love-music!
AGNES. [In a low voice, staring upon the ground.] Yes, love music.
[The door leading from LUCAS"S room opens, and ST. OLPHERTS and LUCAS are heard talking. GERTRUDE hastily goes out. KUCAS enters; the boyishness of manner has left him--he is pale and excited.]
AGNES. What is the matter?
LUCAS. My wife is revealing quite a novel phase of character.
AGNES. Your wife--?
LUCAS. The submissive mood. It"s right that you should be told, Agnes.
She is here, at the Danieli, with my brother Sandford. [ST. OLPHERTS enters slowly.] Yes, positively! It appears that she has lent herself to a scheme of Sandford"s--[glancing at ST. OLPHERTS]--and of--and--
ST. OLPHERTS. Of Sandford"s.
LUCAS. [To AGNES.] A plan of reconciliation. [To ST. OLPHERTS.] Tell Sybil that the submissive mood comes too late, by a year or so! [He paces to and fro. AGNES sits, with an expressionless face.]
AGNES.[Quietly, to ST. OLPHERTS.] The "friends" you were expecting, Duke?
ST. OLPHERTS. [Meekly.] Yes. [She smiles at him scornfully.]
LUCAS. Agnes dear, you and I leave here early tomorrow.
AGNES. Very well, Lucas.
LUCAS. [To ST. OLPHERTS.] Duke, will you be the bearer of a note from me to Sandford?
ST. OLPHERTS. Certainly.
LUCAS. [Going to the door of his room.] I"ll write it at once.
ST. OLPHERTS. [Raising his voice.] You won"t see Sandford, then, dear Lucas, for a moment or two?
LUCAS. No, no; pray excuse me. [He goes out. ST. OLPHERTS advances to AGNES. The sound of the music dies away.]
ST. OLPHERTS. [Slipping his coat off and throwing it upon the head of the settee.] Upon my soul, I think you"ve routed us!
AGNES. Yes.
ST. OLPHERTS. [Sitting, breaking into a laugh.] Ha, ha! he, he, he! Sir Sandford and Mrs. Cleeve will be so angry. Such a devil of a journey for nothing! Ho! [Coughing.] Ho, ho, ho!
AGNES. This was to be your grand coup.
ST. OLPHERTS. I admit it--I have been keeping this in reserve.
AGNES. I see. A further term of cat-and-dog life for Lucas and this lady--but it would have served to dispose of me, you fondly imagined.
I see.
ST. OLPHERTS. I knew your hold on him was weakening. [She looks at him.] You knew it too. [She looks away.] He was beginning to find out that a dowdy demagogue is not the cheeriest person to live with. I repeat, you"re a dooced clever woman, my dear. [She rises, with an impatient shake of her body, and walks past him, he following her with his eyes.] And a handsome one, into the bargain.
AGNES. Tsch!
ST. OLPHERTS. Tell me, when did you make up your mind to transform yourself?