ST. OLPHERTS. [Looking at her, and speaking in an altered tone.] I fear my gossiping has delayed him. You—you dine out?
AGNES. At the Grunwald. Why don't you join us? [Turning to Lucas, lightly.] Persuade him, Lucas. [LUCAS pauses at the door.]
ST. OLPHERTS. Er—impossible. Some—friends of mine may arrive tonight. [Lucas goes out.] I am more than sorry.
AGNES. [Mockingly.] Really? You are sure you are not shy of being seen with a notorious woman?
ST. OLPHERTS. My dear Mrs. Ebbsmith—!
AGNES. No, I forget—that would be unlike you. Mad people scare you, perhaps?
ST. OLPHERTS. Ha, ha! Don't be too rough.
AGNES. Come, Duke, confess—isn't there more sanity in me than you suspected?
ST. OLPHERTS. [In a low voice, eyeing her.] Much more. I think you are very clever.
[LUCAS quietly re-enters the room; he halts upon seeing that ST.
OLPHERTS still lingers.]