odo.

[She turns and runs to the door. They go out.]

[MRS. HILLCRIST, with a long sigh, draws herself up, fine and
proud.]

MRS. H. Dawker! [He comes to her.]

[I shall send him a note to-night, and word it so that
he will be bound to come and see us to-marrow morning. Will
you be in the study just before eleven o'clock, with this
gentleman?]

DAWKER. [Nodding] We're going to wire for his partner. I'll bring
him too. Can't make too sure.

[She goes firmly up the steps and out.]

DAWKER. [To the STRANGER, with a wink] The Squire's squeamish--too
much of a gentleman. But he don't count. The grey mare's all
right. You wire to Henry. I'm off to our solicitors. We'll make
that old rhinoceros sell us back the Centry at a decent price.
These Hornblowers--[Laying his finger on his nose] We've got 'em!

CURTAIN

SCENE II

CHLOE's boudoir at half-past seven the same evening. A pretty
room. No pictures on the walls, but two mirrors. A screen and
a luxurious couch an the fireplace side, stage Left. A door
rather Right of Centre Back; opening inwards. A French window,
Right forward: A writing table, Right Back. Electric light
burning.

CHLOE, in a tea-gown, is standing by the forward end of the
sofa, very still, and very pale. Her lips are parted, and her
large eyes stare straight before them as if seeing ghosts: The
door is opened noiselessly and a WOMAN'S face is seen. It
peers at CHLOE, vanishes, and the door is closed. CHLOE raises
her hands, covers her eyes with them, drops them with a quick
gesture, and looks round her. A knock. With a swift movement
she slides on to the sofa, and lies prostrate, with eyes
closed.

CHLOE. [Feebly] Come in!

[Her Maid enters; a trim, contained figure of uncertain years,
in a black dress, with the face which was peering in.]

Yes, Anna?

ANNA. Aren't you going in to dinner, ma'am?

CHLOE. [With closed eyes] No.

ANNA. Will you take anything here, ma'am?

CHLOE. I'd like a biscuit and a glass of champagne.

[The MAID, who is standing between sofa and door, smiles.
CHLOE, with a swift look, catches the smile.]

Why do you smile?

ANNA. Was I, ma'am?

CHLOE. You know you were. [Fiercely] Are you paid to smile at me?

ANNA. [Immovable] No, ma'am, Would you li