Patricia!
(He kisses her mouth.)
Lady Patricia.
(Clinging to him.) Oh, how I’ve longed for this moment—how I’ve longed for it!... All these weary months I’ve lived in the past and future, on memories and anticipations. Now, at last I have the present—I have reality—you—to have and to hold—you—you.... Kiss me.
Bill.
(Embracing her ardently.) Patricia!
Lady Patricia.
Hush! (Disengaging herself.) We mustn’t be foolish.... Sit down.... (He sits at her feet.) So you got my telegram?
Bill.
Directly the boat came alongside. But it took me a deuce of a time to make out! My French is a bit rusty, and the rotters had jumbled up some of the words. As it is, I only made out the gist of it—to take an earlier train from London than I’d intended, and to call on you before going on to Ashurst, as I’d find you alone in a summer-house you’d built on some tree or other. The twiddly bits of the message didn’t somehow seem to make sense....