KIRKE. Well, this is a pretty task—! [He goes out. GERTRUDE comes to
AGNES. LUCAS rises.]
GERTRUDE. I am going down into the kitchen to see what these people can do in the way of strong soup.
LUCAS. You are exceedingly good to us, Mrs. Thorpe. I can't tell you how ashamed I am of my bearishness this afternoon.
GERTRUDE. [Arranging the shawl about AGNES'S shoulders.] Hush, please!
AGNES. Are you looking at my shawl? Lucas brought it in with him, as a reward for my coming out of that stupid faint. I—I have always refused to be—spoilt in this way, but now—now—
LUCAS. [Breaking in deliberately.] Pretty work upon it, is there not,
Mrs. Thorpe?
GERTRUDE. Charming. [Going to the door, which LUCAS opens for her.]
Thank you.[She passes out. AGNES rises.]
LUCAS. Oh, my dear girl—!
AGNES. [Throwing her cigarette under the stove.] I'm quite myself again, Lucas dear. Watch me—look! [Walking firmly.]
LUCAS. No trembling?