ROOPE.

[_Hurt._] That's rather ungrateful, Phil----

PHILIP.

[_Starting up and walking away to the left._] P'sha!

ROOPE.

If you'd heard how I reasoned with her----!

PHILIP.

[_Striding up and down._] What had I better do? It's good of you to be
here so early. [ROOPE _rises._] I'm _not_ ungrateful, Robbie. Advise
me.

ROOPE.

[_Stiffly._] I assume, from your tone, that what you _wish_ to do is
to--er----?

PHILIP.

To abase myself before her; to grovel at her feet and crave her pardon
for my behaviour of last night. What else should I want to do, in God's
name!

ROOPE.

[_Dryly._] I see, you've slept on it.

PHILIP.

Laid awake on it. [_Fiercely._] Do I look as if I'd slept the sleep of
a healthy infant?

ROOPE.

I don't know anything about infants, I am happy to say, healthy or
ailing; but certainly your treatment of Madame de Chaumie was
atrocious.

PHILIP.

Brutal, savage, inhuman! [_Halting and extending his arms._] And what's
been her fault? She's dared to love me eagerly, impetuously,
uncontrollably--_me_, a conceited, egotistical fellow who is no more
worth her devotion than the pompous beast who opens her father's
front-door! And because, out of her love, she commits a heedless,
impulsive act which deals a blow at my rotten pride, I slap her face
and turn my back upon her, and suffer her to leave my rooms as though
she's a charwoman detected in prigging silver from my cash-box!
[_Clasping his brow and groaning._] Oh--! [_In sudden fury at seeing_
ROOPE _thoughtfully examining his hat._] Damn it, Robbie, stop fiddling
with your hat or you'll drive me crazy!

[_He sits on the settee on the left and rests his head
on his fists._ ROOPE _hastily deposits his hat on the
smoking-table._

ROOPE.

[_Approaching_ PHILIP _coldly._] I was considering, dear excellent
friend--but perhaps in your present state of irritability----

PHILIP.

[_Holding out his hand penitently._] Shut up!

ROOPE.

[_Presenting_ PHILIP _with two fingers._] I was considering--when you