[She goes out. He closes the door after her and stands staring at the ground for a moment; then he gently turns the key in the lock and carefully draws the portière across the door. He is about to put his finger upon the bell-press when he pauses.
John.
[In a low voice.] Olive. Olive. I have not yet rung the bell. Do you stop me? [A pause.] Won’t you stop me?
[He waits; there is no answer; with an angry gesture he rings the bell. After a brief pause Quaife enters; Theophila follows. She is dressed as in the previous Act, but is now thickly veiled. Quaife gives a puzzled look round the room and withdraws.
Theophila.
[Advancing and speaking in a weak, plaintive voice.] Oh, Jack——! [They shake hands, but in a constrained, rather formal way.] Of course, we could have had our talk very well in the lane; but it’s kind and considerate of you to ask me in.
John.
Oh, not in the least. [Confusedly.] I—er—I—Do sit down.
[She looks at him, expecting him to find her a chair. In the end, after a little uncertainty, she seats herself on the right of the table. In the meantime he ascertains that the door by which Theophila has entered is closed.
Theophila.