MARY. But what are you going to do?
LEONARD. I don’t know. I shall sponge on my pals for a time, I suppose. I shall dun my mother. I might get down to Ada. Edgar, I think you’re safe. By-the-bye, Sheila, can you lend me half-a-crown? [He turns suddenly to his father.] Do you see the folly of it yet? Are you going to budge? What about my mother? Is it fair to her?
TIMBRELL. You begin to think of your mother too late.
LEONARD. Oh! I know I’m as selfish as they’re made. You’re well out of it, Mary. There’s no relenting, then?
TIMBRELL. None. [LEONARD pauses for a moment and then walks towards the door.]
MARY. Stop. [He stops and looks round.] Come here, please. [He returns to her.] I’ll—I’ll do as you like.
LEONARD. You mean you’d marry me?
MARY. If you like.
LEONARD. [Looking intently at her.] I wonder if it’s possible.
MARY. You needn’t unless you like.