ou sure you 're all right. Joy? You 'll just rest here in the
shade, won't you, till I come back?--it 'll do you no end of good. I
shan't be twenty minutes.

[He goes, but cannot help returning softly, to make sure.]

You're quite sure you 're all right?

[JOY nods. He goes away towards the river. But there is no
rest for JOY. The voices of MRS. GWYN and LEVER are heard
returning.]

JOY. [With a gesture of anger.] Hateful! Hateful!

[She runs away.]

[MRS. GWYN and LEVER are seen approaching; they pass the tree,
in conversation.]

MRS. GWYN. But I don't see why, Maurice.

LEVER. We mean to sell the mine; we must do some more work on it,
and for that we must have money.

MRS. GWYN. If you only want a little, I should have thought you
could have got it in a minute in the City.

LEVER. [Shaking his head.] No, no; we must get it privately.

MRS. GWYN. [Doubtfully.] Oh! [She slowly adds.] Then it isn't
such a good thing!

[And she does not look at him.]

LEVER. Well, we mean to sell it.

MRS. GWYN. What about the people who buy?

LEVER. [Dubiously regarding her.] My dear girl, they've just as
much chance as we had. It 's not my business to think of them.
There's YOUR thousand pounds----

MRS. GWYN. [Softly.] Don't bother about my money, Maurice. I don't
want you to do anything not quite----

LEVER. [Evasively.] Oh! There's my brother's and my sister's too.
I 'm not going to let any of you run any risk. When we all went in
for it the thing looked splendid; it 's only the last month that we
've had doubts. What bothers me now is your Uncle. I don't want him
to take these shares. It looks as if I'd come here on purpose.

MRS. GWYN. Oh! he mustn't take them!

LEVER. That 's all very well; but it 's not so simple.

MRS. GWYN. [Shyly.] But, Maurice, have you told him about the
selling?

LEVER. [Gloomily, under the hollow tree.] It 's a Board secret.
I'd no business to tell even you.

MRS. GWYN. But he thinks he's taking shares in a good--a permanent
thing.

LEVER. You can't go into a mining venture without some risk.

MRS. GWYN. Oh yes, I know--but--but Uncle Tom is such a dear!

LEVER. [Stubbornly.] I can't help his being the sort of man he is.
I did n't want him to take these shares; I told him so in so many
words. Put yourself in my place, Molly: how can I go to him and say,
"This thing may turn out rotten," w