Kyrle [Takes letter.] This! [Reads.
Enter Hardress, L.
Anne Hardress! [Turns aside.
Kyrle Oh! [Suddenly struck with the truth; glances towards Anne; finding her looking away, places letter to Hardress.] Do you know that?—you dropped it.
Hard [Conceals letter.] Eh? Oh!
Kyrle ’Twas he. [Looks from one to the other.] She thinks me guilty; but if I stir to exculpate myself, he is in for it.
Hard You look distressed, Kyrle. Anne, what is the matter?
Kyrle Nothing, Hardress. I was about to ask Miss Chute to forget a subject which was painful to her, and to beg of her never to mention it again—not even to you, Hardress.
Hard I am sure she will deny you nothing.
Anne I will forget, sir. [Aside.] But I will never forgive him—never.