SIR SANDFORD. I can't regard it in that light, under the peculiar circumstances.
SYBIL. I'd rather you wouldn't interrupt me, Sandford. [To AGNES.] But the peculiar circumstances, to borrow my brother-in-law's phrase, are not such as to develop sweetness and modesty, I suppose.
SIR SANDFORD. Again I say you wrong yourself there, Sybil—
SYBIL. [Impatiently.] Oh, please let me wrong myself, for a change. [To AGNES.] When my husband left me, and I heard of his association with you, I felt sure that his vanity would soon make an openly irregular life intolerable to him. Vanity is the cause of a great deal of virtue in men; the vainest are those who like to be thought respectable.
SIR SANDFORD. Really, I must protest—
SYBIL. But Lady Cleeve—the mother—and the rest of the family have not had the patience to wait for the fulfilment of my prophecy. And so I have been forced to undertake this journey.
SIR SANDFORD. I demur to the expression "forced", Sybil—
SYBIL. Cannot we be left alone? Surely—! [SANDFORD bows stiffly and moves away, following ST. OLPHERTS.] However, there's this to be said for them, poor people—whatever is done to save my husband's prospects in life must be done now. It is no longer possible to play fast and loose with friends and supporters—to say nothing of enemies. His future now rests upon a matter of days—hours almost. [Rising and walking about agitatedly.] That is why I am sent here—well, why I am here.
AGNES. [In a low, quavering voice.] What is it you are all asking me to do now?
SYBIL. We are asking you to continue to—to exert your influence over him for a little while longer.