She shrinks from him unforgivingly.
amy. No, let me alone. I'm nothing to you. I'm a sick beast in danger of my life, that's all . . cancerous!
He is roused for the first time, roused to horror and protest.
trebell. Oh, you unhappy woman! . . . if life is like death to you . . .
amy. [Turning on him.] Don't lecture me! If you're so clever put a stop to this horror. Or you might at least say you're sorry.
trebell. Sorry! [The bell on the table rings jarringly.] Cantelupe!
He goes to the telephone. She gets up cold and collected, steadied merely by the unexpected sound.
amy. I mustn't keep you from governing the country. I'm sure you'll do it very well.
trebell. [At the telephone.] Yes, bring him up, of course . . isn't Mr. Kent there? [then to her.] I may be ten minutes with him or half an hour. Wait and we'll come to a conclusion.
kent comes in, an open letter in his hand.