Car. Yes. He called on me this evening, rather to my inconvenience.
Dor. Did he?
Car. Might I ask you—to put him somewhere for me? (Dorvaston looks at her wonderingly) There's a dry ditch—at the end of the garden—that would do.
Dor. Anything you wish, of course.
Car. Thanks! (turns B. gas out)
Dor. Then you know Crayll?
Car. Yes. (turning to Dorvaston) He was my husband at one time. (turns out gas)
Dor. (in an amazed whisper) What!
Car. Good-night! (she goes out quietly at door R.)
The stage is now dark except the moonlight which streams in at door. Dorvaston stands transfixed with astonishment—then he puts on his hat—goes up and opens the back door—returns—picks up Crayll and carries him up stage. As he does so the