E. Dancy, for the honour of the Army, avoid further scandal if
you can. I've written a letter to a friend of mine in the Spanish War
Office. It will get you a job in their war. [CANYNGE closes the
envelope].

DANCY. Very good of you. I don't know if I can make use of it.

CANYNGE stretches out the letter, which TWISDEN hands to DANCY, who
takes it. GRAVITER re-opens the door.

TWISDEN. What is it?

GRAVITER. De Levis is here.

TWISDEN. De Levis? Can't see him.

DANCY. Let him in!

After a moment's hesitation TWISDEN nods, and GRAVITER goes out.
The three wait in silence with their eyes fixed on the door, the
GENERAL sitting at the table, TWISDEN by his chair, DANCY between
him and the door Right. DE LEVIS comes in and shuts the door. He
is advancing towards TWISDEN when his eyes fall on DANCY, and he
stops.

TWISDEN. You wanted to see me?

DE LEVIS. [Moistening his lips] Yes. I came to say that--that I
overheard--I am afraid a warrant is to be issued. I wanted you to
realise--it's not my doing. I'll give it no support. I'm content. I
don't want my money. I don't even want costs. Dancy, do you understand?

DANCY does not answer, but looks at him with nothing alive in his
face but his eyes.

TWISDEN. We are obliged to you, Sir. It was good of you to come.

DE LEVIS. [With a sort of darting pride] Don't mistake me. I didn't
come because I feel Christian; I am a Jew. I will take no money--not
even that which was stolen. Give it to a charity. I'm proved right.
And now I'm done with the damned thing. Good-morning!

He makes a little bow to CANYNGE and TWISDEN, and turns to face
DANCY, who has never moved. The two stand motionless, looking at
each other, then DE LEVIS shrugs his shoulders and walks out. When
he is gone there is a silence.

CANYNGE. [Suddenly] You heard what he said, Dancy. You have no time to
lose.

But DANCY does not stir.

TWISDEN. Captain Dancy?

Slowly, without turning his head, rather like a man in a dream,
DANCY walks across the room, and goes out.

CURTAIN.

SCENE III

The DANCYS' sitting-room, a few minutes later. MABEL DANCY is
sitting alone on the sofa with a newspaper on her lap; she is only
just up, and has a bottle of smelling-salts in her hand. Two or
three other newspapers are dumped on the