Ha, we didn’t calculate for this when we arranged our ingenious little plan last night! We were to restore Mrs. Fraser’s name and position to her untarnished; we were to set poor little Humpty-Dumpty up again by—when was it?—Goodwood week; all in return for your ten minutes’ fun in there! We were damned generous, you and I—only we reckoned without Mrs. Fraser! [Starting up.] And so, you see, after all, we’ve had our fun, and enjoyed it, and yet pay nothing for it! But, at the same time, we mustn’t forget that in this world everything has to be paid for by somebody. By Jove, there’s no doubt as to who stands treat for last night! Mrs. Fraser pays! that poor little, broken-down woman pays! She pays——!
Olive.
[Rising.] You blame me beyond all reason! I’ll not put up with it! Why didn’t you call her aunt into the room last night when you saw Mrs. Fraser becoming wilder and wilder? [Walking away.] Pah! you appeared moonstruck! moonstruck!
John.
I thought I might save her from meeting her people while she was so unlike herself. You know I was helpless——[She approaches; he seizes her by the shoulders.] You—you reproach me! Why didn’t you strike that bell sooner? why didn’t you strike it sooner? [Leaving her, and throwing himself into a chair.] Ah, you weren’t capable even of that!
Olive.
[Tearfully, rubbing her shoulders.] Oh, John——!
John.
I beg your pardon.
Olive.