Lucy. Of course she did! I told her.
Miss P. She would naturally take a prominent part in any duplicity. (crossing to window; Thorsby goes up after her to make his peace)
Lucy. That's all rot. She was a real good sort—a long way better than most of us (she goes to Dorvaston) Jack, old boy!
Dor. Yes, little woman? (sitting L. looking at Bradshaw)
Lucy. You're the only one that matters. I cared for Harry—and you didn't care for me—did you? Tell me you didn't, or I shall hate myself. You'd have married me and tried to look pleasant, but it would have taken you all your time. Now, Jack, I want to hear you take your oath you don't mind.
Dor. (rises) Mind! (rings bell, returns, and takes Lucy by both hands) My dear child, you don't know what a turn you've done me by throwing me over for a better man. Mind? (crosses to Thorsby, claps him on the shoulder) My dear Thorsby, I wish you all the luck you could wish yourself—and you'll get it! A chap who could carry out a thing of this kind in such an exceptional way has all the makings of a future bishop. (Gandy enters) Pack my things at once; I must catch the 11:15 to town. (Gandy goes out)
Lucy. Going to leave us?
Dor. (crosses to Lucy) I must, little woman—but I won't forget to send you a wedding present—silver mug—no, that's later! (Lucy crosses to Thorsby U. B. To Pillenger) Good-bye, sir. (Pillenger rises, and they shake hands across the table, he then sits again) Keep your head up and your liver active.
Pil. Good-bye!