Amy seems about to make a somewhat grudging reply, but the unexpected arrival of the man who has so strangely won her seals her lips.
AMY. ‘You!’ with a depth of meaning, ‘Oh, sir.’
STEVE, the most nervous of the company, ‘I felt I must come. Miss Grey, I am in the greatest distress, as the unhappy cause of all this trouble.’
AMY, coldly, ‘You should have thought of that before.’
STEVE. ‘It was dense of me not to understand sooner—very dense.’ He looks at her with wistful eyes. ‘Must I marry you, Miss Grey?’
AMY, curling her lip, ‘Ah, that is what you are sorry for!’
STEVE. ‘Yes—horribly sorry.’ Hastily, ‘Not for myself. To tell you the truth, I’d be—precious glad to risk it—I think.’
AMY, with a glance at Ginevra, ‘You would?’
STEVE. ‘But very sorry for you. It seems such a shame to you—so young and attractive—and the little you know of me so—unfortunate.’
AMY. ‘You mean you could never love me?’