o worry over, dear.

MRS. GWYN. [Passionately.] What does it matter about the wretched
shares now? I 'm stifling.

[She throws her scarf off.]

LEVER. I don't understand what you mean by "now."

MRS. GWYN. Don't you?

LEVER. We were n't--Joy can't know--why should she? I don't believe
for a minute----

MRS. GWYN. Because you don't want to.

LEVER. Do you mean she does?

MRS. GWYN. Her heart knows.

[LEVER makes a movement of discomfiture; suddenly MRS. GWYN
looks at him as though to read his soul.]

I seem to bring you nothing but worry, Maurice. Are you tired of me?

LEVER. [Meeting her eyes.] No, I am not.

MRS. GWYN. Ah, but would you tell me if you were?

LEVER. [Softly.] Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

[MRS. GWYN struggles to look at him, then covers her face with
her hands.]

MRS. GWYN. If I were to give you up, you'd forget me in a month.

LEVER. Why do you say such things?

MRS. GWYN. If only I could believe I was necessary to you!

LEVER. [Forcing the fervour of his voice.] But you are!

MRS. GWYN. Am I? [With the ghost of a smile.] Midsummer day!

[She gives a laugh that breaks into a sob.]

[The music o f a waltz sounds from the house.]

LEVER. For God's sake, don't, Molly--I don't believe in going to
meet trouble.

MRS. GWYN. It's staring me in the face.

LEVER. Let the future take care of itself!

[MRS. GWYN has turned away her face, covering it with her
hands.]

Don't, Molly! [Trying to pull her hands away.] Don't!

MRS. GWYN. Oh! what shall I do?

[There is a silence; the music of the waltz sounds louder from
the house.]

[Starting up.] Listen! One can't sit it out and dance it too.
Which is it to be, Maurice, dancing--or sitting out? It must be one
or the other, must n't it?

LEVER. Molly! Molly!

MRS. GWYN. Ah, my dear! [Standing away from him as though to show
herself.] How long shall I keep you? This is all that 's left of
me. It 's time I joined the wallflowers. [Smiling faintly.] It's
time I played the mother, is n't it? [In a whisper.] It'll be all
sitting out then.

LEVER. Don't! Let's go and dance, it'll do you good.

[He puts his hands on her arms, and in a gust of passion kisses
her lips and throat.]

MRS. GWYN. I can't give you up--I can't. Love me, oh! love me!

[For a moment they stand so; then, with sudden remembra