The scene is the same, the light that of a fine winter morning. The big doors are open, and from the dining-room windows, where the curtains are now drawn back, there is a view of some buildings opposite and, through a space between the buildings, of the tops of the bare trees in Gray's Inn garden.
Save for a chair with a crumpled napkin upon it which stands at the dining-table before the remains of Philip's breakfast, the disposition of the furniture is as when first shown.
A fire is burning in the nearer room.
[Philip, dressed as at the opening of the preceding act, is seated on the settee on the right, moodily puffing at his pipe. Roope faces him, in the chair by the smoking-table, with a mournful air. Roope is in his overcoat and is nursing his hat.
Philip.
[To Roope, shortly, as if continuing a conversation.] Well?
Roope.
Well, what happened was this. I——
[He breaks off to glance over his shoulder into the further room.
Philip.