[Gwymplane, unheeding, tries to pass her with Dea upon his arm.]
Fool, obey me, or embrace a peril that will choke you and your little friend of disobedience. Come, she shall await you in my private conservatory.
[She makes a gesture as if to separate them.]
Gwymplane
I shall go with her.
Duchess
Nay, suspect no more mousetraps. Lead her there yourself; see that she is comfortable among the candles and flowers, then return to me for your own interest and for hers.
[Gwymplane leads Dea out door on left and returns.]
You have had a strange evening for a mountebank—an evening filled with such events as to strain almost any amount of discretion.