MICH. Yes.
AUDR. Meantime Withycombe has gone to Saint Margaret’s with your uncle, stays there Wednesday night and does not get my telegram till his return home yesterday afternoon. He consults my servants, who know nothing of my whereabouts, consults Mr. Gibbard, who advises him to go to Saint Decuman’s and see if I am there. He reaches Saint Decuman’s last evening. You are surprised when he shows you the telegram—you explain that I am not there, that I have not been there, that you’ve seen nothing of me. (Very tenderly.) Dear, I felt so sorry for you when I heard you blundering and stammering through your tale to Withycombe.
MICH. Why?
AUDR. I knew the pain and shame it caused you to say what wasn’t true. I wished I could have told all the lies for you.
MICH. No, no. Isn’t the truth dear to you?
AUDR. Not in comparison with you. Besides, I shall be let off my fibs and little sins very cheaply, much more cheaply than you’ll be, great serious person.
MICH. You grieve me to the heart when you speak like this——
AUDR. (penitent). I won’t! I won’t! I’ll be very good and quite serious. Where were we? Well, you explain to Withycombe that I have never been to Saint Decuman’s, and at the same time you also change your mind and return with him last evening instead of staying till Saturday.
MICH. You’ve seen Withycombe and told him you went to London?