By this time he is sitting at his table; she near him watching closely. They halve the considerable post and start to open it.
Trebell. We arrange them in three piles ... personal ... political ... and preposterous.
Frances. This is an invitation ... the Anglican League.
Trebell. I can't go.
She looks sideways at him, as he goes on mechanically tearing the envelopes.
Frances. I heard you come upstairs about two o'clock.
Trebell. That was to dip my head in water. Then I made an instinctive attempt to go to bed ... got my tie off even.
Frances. [Her anxiety breaking out.] If you'd tell me that you're only ill....
Trebell. [Forbiddingly commonplace.] What's that letter? Don't fuss ... and remember that abnormal conduct is sometimes quite rational.
Frances returns to her task with misty eyes.