trebell. [As he follows.] Half-past twelve.
trebell is hard-bitten, brainy, forty-five and very sure of himself. He has a cold keen eye, which rather belies a sensitive mouth; hands which can grip, and a figure that is austere.
amy o'connell. I ought to be in bed. I suppose everyone has gone.
trebell. Early trains to-morrow. The billiard room lights are out.
amy o'connell. The walk has just tired me comfortably.
trebell. Sit down. [She sits by the table. He sits by her and says with the air of a certain buyer at a market.] You're very pretty.
amy o'connell. As well here as by moonlight? Can't you see any wrinkles?
trebell. One or two . . under the eyes. But they give character and bring you nearer my age. Yes, Nature hit on the right curve in making you.
She stretches herself cat-like.
amy o'connell. Praise is the greatest of luxuries, isn't it, Henry? . . Henry . . [she caresses the name.]