LEONARD. Mary, I’d like to talk to you about this.
MARY. I’ll hear what you have to say.
LEONARD. Not here. Not now. I want you alone.
MARY. It’s only reasons I want. You can give those here.
LEONARD. Mother, talk to her.
MRS. TIMBRELL. You’ve startled me, Mary. It seems very dreadful.
MARY. I’m sorry Ma’am.
TIMBRELL. [To LEONARD.] Confound you, sir, are you going to let your wife go like this?
LEONARD. [He knows in his heart that MARY will not be shaken and his efforts to retain her seem perfunctory.] What do I do? What’s the right thing? Must I call out Truefit? Or assassinate him? Is there such a person? He sounds to me like a myth or a symbol or something. Mary, will you swear that there is a George Truefit?