WALTER. [Dropping his head, and speaking under his breath.] Yes.
BETTY. [Wringing her hands.] You do, you do?
WALTER. Yes, that's the truth—I do. Oh, Betty I'm so frightfully sorry—
BETTY. [With a groan.] Then you don't love me any more …
WALTER. It's not that. But you see—
BETTY. [Moaning.] You don't, you don't!
[She stands there, crushed, overwhelmed, dry-eyed, broken moans escaping from her; suddenly she hears a key turning in the lock of the hall-door outside, and rushes to the card-table.
BETTY. Hector! Quick, quick—the cards!
[WALTER flies to the table, and sits by her side. He seizes one pack and proceeds to shuffle it, she is dealing with the other. All this takes only a second. HECTOR comes in—they both spring up.
BETTY. Hector! You're not ill?