as to offer to bet me a
thousan' poun' that you'll end by bein' a bishop yourself, I shouldn't
venture to take the bet. You and yore crew are gettin' hinfluential: I
can see that. They'll 'ave to give you something someday, if it's only
to stop yore mouth. You 'ad the right instinc' arter all, James: the
line you took is the payin' line in the long run fur a man o' your sort.

MORELL (decisively--offering his hand). Shake hands, Burgess. Now
you're talking honestly. I don't think they'll make me a bishop; but if
they do, I'll introduce you to the biggest jobbers I can get to come to
my dinner parties.

BURGESS (who has risen with a sheepish grin and accepted the hand of
friendship). You will 'ave your joke, James. Our quarrel's made up now,
isn't it?

A WOMAN'S VOICE. Say yes, James.

Startled, they turn quickly and find that Candida has just come in, and
is looking at them with an amused maternal indulgence which is her
characteristic expression. She is a woman of 33, well built, well
nourished, likely, one guesses, to become matronly later on, but now
quite at her best, with the double charm of youth and motherhood. Her
ways are those of a woman who has found that she can always manage
people by engaging their affection, and who does so frankly and
instinctively without the smallest scruple. So far, she is like any
other pretty woman who is just clever enough to make the most of her
sexual attractions for trivially selfish ends; but Candida's serene
brow, courageous eyes, and well set mouth and chin signify largeness of
mind and dignity of character to ennoble her cunning in the affections.
A wisehearted observer, looking at her, would at once guess that
whoever had placed the Virgin of the Assumption over her hearth did so
because he fancied some spiritual resemblance between them, and yet
would not suspect either her husband or herself of any such idea, or
indeed of any concern with the art of Titian.

Just now she is in bonnet and mantle, laden with a strapped rug with
her umbrella stuck through it, a handbag, and a supply of illustrated
papers.

MORELL (shocked at his remissness). Candida! Why--(looks at his watch,
and is horrified to find it so late.) My darling! (Hurrying to her and
seizing the rug strap, pouring forth his remorseful regrets all the
time.) I intended to meet you at the train. I let the time slip.
(Flinging the rug on the sofa.) I was so engrossed by--(returning to
her)--I forgot--oh! (He