kent. This note, sir. Had I better go round myself and see him?
trebell. [As he takes the note.] Cantelupe's come.
kent. [Glancing at the telephone.] Oh, has he!
trebell. [As he reads.] Yes I think you had.
kent. Evans was very serious.
He goes back into his room. amy moves swiftly to where trebell is standing and whispers.
amy. Won't you tell me whom to go to?
trebell. No.
amy. Oh, really . . what unpractical sentimental children you men are! You and your consciences . . you and your laws. You drive us to distraction and sometimes to death by your stupidities. Poor women—!
The Maid comes in to announce lord charles cantelupe, who follows her. cantelupe is forty, unathletic, and a gentleman in the best and worst sense of the word. He moves always with a caution which may betray his belief in the personality of the Devil. He speaks cautiously too, and as if not he but something inside him were speaking. One feels that before strangers he would not if he could help it move or speak at all. A pale face: the mouth would be hardened by fanaticism were it not for the elements of Christianity in his religion: and he has the limpid eye of the enthusiast.