Austin. Poor Jinny! [Turning to Geoffrey.] and that, too, lies largely on your already overcrowded shoulders.
Geoffrey. [Breaking down.] I know! I know!
Austin. [Sitting in the corner of the sofa.] Here, don't cry! You've got to be strong now, and you've no use nor time for crying. I've had another long interview with the Brooklyn minister.
Geoffrey. Yes?—
Austin. [Drawing a chair near to him and sitting.] Well, of course we both know that he's doing wrong to keep silent, but he will. He wishes I hadn't told him, because he thinks he'd never have noticed your divorce from Maggie when it was granted—nor remembered your name if he had seen it in the papers.
Geoffrey. That's what I told you!
Austin. You only argued that for fear I'd insist on your going to this minister yourself. But in the bottom of your heart you know it was a risk we couldn't afford to run. I've explained everything to him—how such a fine, sweet girl would suffer if he did expose you, and I gave him my word you would be remarried to Ruth at once after the divorce. Of course we both know it's wrong, but we both hope the end justifies the means that removes difficulty number two.
Geoffrey. You're sure about Maggie?
Austin. She's signed a paper; she realizes you'll never live with her, and—it's pathetic—she loves you—that girl, too—so much as to give you your freedom—Good Lord! what is it about you weak men that wins women so? What is it in you that has made two women love you to such a self-sacrificing extent?
Geoffrey. [Half tragic, half comic laugh.] I give it up!