Sir J. (pettishly) This is not a case—
Mollen. (rise and go C.) Pardon me, but it is. If I may borrow an analogy from your legal jargon, I am the leader here, and you the junior. Is that not so?
Sir J. I have made up my mind. I shall tell her the truth.
Mollen. Do—and they'll drag up her body on Swanage beach to-morrow.
Sir J. Absurd!
Mollen. Let that sentimental girl realize that she has been fooled—she'll take her life. That's certain. And as her hair's long she'll choose the sea. (away L. and up L. C.)
Sir J. Unfortunately I've lost my faith in you, Mollentrave.
Mollen. (shrugging his shoulders) That, of course, is a pity.
Sir J. Am I not justified? See your great scheme about Everard! She isn't jealous at all.