ST. OLPHERTS. It's known you leave for Milan at a quarter to nine in the morning; there might be some sort of foolish, inconvenient scene at the station.
AMOS. Surely your Grace—?
ST. OLPHERTS. Oh, no, I shall be in bed at that hour. I mean, between the women, perhaps—and Mr. Cleeve. Come, come, sir, you can't abduct Mrs. Ebbsmith—nor can we. Nor must you gag her. [AMOS appears angry and perplexed.] Pray be reasonable. Let her speak out for herself— here, finally—and settle the business. Come, sir, come!
AMOS. [Going to GERTRUDE and speaking in a low voice.] Ask her. [GERTRUDE goes out.] Cleeve! Where is he while this poor creature's body and soul are being played for? You have told him she is with us?
ST. OLPHERTS. No, I haven't.
AMOS. He must suspect it.
ST. OLPHERTS. Well, candidly, Mr. Winterfield, Mr. Cleeve is just now employed in looking for Mrs. Ebbsmith elsewhere.
AMOS. Elsewhere?
ST. OLPHERTS. Sir Sandford recognised that, in his brother's present mood, the young man's presence might be prejudicial to the success of these delicate negotiations.
AMOS. So some lie has been told him, to keep him out of the way?