Duchess.
[Sliding from her chair on to the footstool.] Oh, Harry, the bitterness of this final meeting! the dull agony of it!
[He gets rid of his tumbler and touches her arm.
Quex.
[Quietly.] Duchess—
Duchess.
[Surprised.] Eh?
Quex.
I am sorry to alarm you, but this girl—Miss Eden's foster-sister—