MISS GILPIN (stunned by being thus defiantly confronted—stammeringly). Mr. Murray! I—I—how can you ask——
MURRAY (quickly). Eileen has a right to know. She loves me—and I—I—love her! (He holds her eyes and speaks with a passion of sincerity that compels belief.) I love her, do you hear?
MISS GILPIN (falteringly). You—love—Eileen?
MURRAY. Yes! I do! (Entreatingly.) So—tell her—won't you?
MISS GILPIN (swallowing hard, her eyes full of pity and sorrow fixed on Eileen). Yes—Eileen—it's true. (She turns away slowly towards the door.)
EILEEN (with a little cry of alarmed concern, stretches out her hands to Murray protectingly). Poor Stephen—dear! (He grasps her hands and kisses them.)
MISS GILPIN (in a low voice). Mr. Murray. May I speak to you for a moment?
MURRAY (with a look of questioning defiance at her). Certainly.
MISS GILPIN (turns to Eileen with a forced smile). I won't steal him away for more than a moment, Eileen. (Eileen smiles happily.)
MURRAY (follows Miss Gilpin into the room. She leads him to the far end of the room near the door to the hall, after shutting the porch door carefully behind him. He looks at her defiantly). Well?