May. Oh, Roy, so bitter.
Roy (crossing to her chair). To you, May, I owe it all. You, with your clear, woman’s vision, pierced the mask and disclosed the deception (bitterly). I thank you. (Goes up to window and looks out.)
May. Bitter, bitter. I have wounded his dear heart by my folly. Will he ever forgive me?
Roy (comes down). It’s a blustering night. (Rests hand on back of May’s chair.) That’s a glorious blaze, May. Pity I cannot stay and enjoy it.
May. Are you going out?
Bess. Not to-night, Roy?
Marcus (comes down to chair vacated by Roy, and takes up paper). “There’s no place like home,” Manning.
Roy. Right, Marcus: especially if it’s somebody’s else home, with a particular attraction in the shape of a pretty girl. Now, don’t press me to stay, for you know you and Bess are dying to be alone.
Marcus. Gammon.
Roy. Rather say backgammon, for with two that makes home a par-o-dice. There’s but one will miss me.