[Turning.] Eh?
Quex.
[Sternly.] Go on. [She writes.] "For your great liberality, and in once more availing myself of it I quite understand—"
Sophy.
[Weakly.] Oh! [After writing.] Yes.
Quex.
"I quite understand that our friendship comes to an end." [She rises and faces him.] Go on.
Sophy.
Our friendship!
Quex.