falls.

ACT III

It is five o'clock of the same day. The scene is the
smoking-room, with walls of Leander red, covered by old
steeplechase and hunting prints. Armchairs encircle a high
ferulered hearth, in which a fire is burning. The curtains are
not yet drawn across mullioned windows, but electric light is
burning. There are two doors, leading, the one to the
billiard-room, the other to a corridor. BILL is pacing up and
doom; HAROLD, at the fireplace, stands looking at him with
commiseration.

BILL. What's the time?

HAROLD. Nearly five. They won't be in yet, if that's any
consolation. Always a tough meet--[softly] as the tiger said when he
ate the man.

BILL. By Jove! You're the only person I can stand within a mile of
me, Harold.

HAROLD. Old boy! Do you seriously think you're going to make it any
better by marrying her?

[Bill shrugs his shoulders, still pacing the room.]

BILL. Look here! I'm not the sort that finds it easy to say things.

HAROLD. No, old man.

BILL. But I've got a kind of self-respect though you wouldn't think
it!

HAROLD. My dear old chap!

BILL. This is about as low-down a thing as one could have done, I
suppose--one's own mother's maid; we've known her since she was so
high. I see it now that--I've got over the attack.

HAROLD. But, heavens! if you're no longer keen on her, Bill! Do
apply your reason, old boy.

There is silence; while BILL again paces up and dozen.

BILL. If you think I care two straws about the morality of the
thing.

HAROLD. Oh! my dear old man! Of course not!

BILL. It's simply that I shall feel such a d---d skunk, if I leave
her in the lurch, with everybody knowing. Try it yourself; you'd
soon see!

HAROLD. Poor old chap!

BILL. It's not as if she'd tried to force me into it. And she's a
soft little thing. Why I ever made such a sickening ass of myself, I
can't think. I never meant----

HAROLD. No, I know! But, don't do anything rash, Bill; keep your
head, old man!

BILL. I don't see what loss I should be, if I did clear out of the
country. [The sound of cannoning billiard balls is heard] Who's
that knocking the balls about?

HAROLD. John, I expect. [The sound ceases.]

BILL. He's coming in here. Can't stand that!

As LATTER appears from the billiard-room, he goes hurriedly out.

LATTER. Was that Bill?

HAROLD. Yes.

LATTER.