imself alone. The eyes of every one are on him.

STRANGWAY. [Taking the church key from the window.] Take this,
please.

MRS. BRADMERE. No, no, no! Jarland deserved all he got. You had
great provocation.

STRANGWAY. It's not Jarland. [Holding out the key] Please take it
to the Rector. I beg his forgiveness. [Touching his breast]
There's too much I can't speak of--can't make plain. Take it to him,
please.

MRS. BRADMERE. Mr. Strangway--I don't accept this. I am sure my
husband--the Church--will never accept----

STRANGWAY. Take it!

MRS. BRADMERE. [Almost unconsciously taking it] Mind! We don't
accept it. You must come and talk to the Rector to-morrow. You're
overwrought. You'll see it all in another light, then.

STRANGWAY. [With a strange smile] Perhaps. [Lifting the blind]
Beautiful night! Couldn't be more beautiful!

MRS. BRADMERE. [Startled-softly] Don't turn sway from these who
want to help you! I'm a grumpy old woman, but I can feel for you.
Don't try and keep it all back, like this! A woman would cry, and it
would all seem clearer at once. Now won't you let me----?

STRANGWAY. No one can help, thank you.

MRS. BRADMERE. Come! Things haven't gone beyond mending, really, if
you'll face them. [Pointing to the photograph] You know what I
mean. We dare not foster immorality.

STRANGWAY. [Quivering as at a jabbed nerve] Don't speak of that!

MRS. BRADMERE. But think what you've done, Mr. Strangway! If you
can't take your wife back, surely you must divorce her. You can
never help her to go on like this in secret sin.

STRANGWAY. Torture her--one way or the other?

MRS. BRADMERE. No, no; I want you to do as the Church--as all
Christian society would wish. Come! You can't let this go on. My
dear man, do your duty at all costs!

STRANGWAY. Break her heart?

MRS. BRADMERE. Then you love that woman--more than God!

STRANGWAY. [His face quivering] Love!

MRS. BRADMERE. They told me----Yes, and I can see you're is a bad
way. Come, pull yourself together! You can't defend what you're
doing.

STRANGWAY. I do not try.

MRS. BRADMERE. I must get you to see! My father was a clergyman;
I'm married to one; I've two sons in the Church. I know what I'm
talking about. It's a priest's business to guide the people's lives.

STRANGWAY. [Very low] But not mine! No more!

MRS. BRADMERE. [Looking at him shrewdly] There's something very
queer about you