"I don't know what it means—I don't care—I hated him, the brute. I'm glad he's dead. I don't care for that. But she's coming here, any minute, and I can't face it."
Lady Cicely, more quietly, "Jack, tell me, did my—did Sir John Trevor ever talk to you about your father?"
"No. He never spoke of him."
"Did he know him?"
"Yes—I think so—long ago. But they were enemies—Trevor challenged him to a duel—over some woman—and he wouldn't fight—the cur."
Lady Cicely (dazed and aghast)—"I—understand—it—now." She recovers herself and speaks quickly.
"Listen. There is time yet. Go to the hotel. Go at once. Tell your mother nothing. Nothing, you understand. Keep her from coming here. Anything, but not that. Ernestine,"—She calls to the maid who reappears for a second—"a taxi—at once."
She hurriedly gets Harding's hat and coat. The stage is full of bustle. There is a great sense of hurry. The audience are in an agony for fear Ernestine is too slow, or calls a four-wheel cab by mistake. If the play is really well put on, you can presently hear the taxi buzzing outside. Mr. Harding goes to kiss Lady Cicely. She puts him from her in horror and hastens him out.
She calls the maid. "Ernestine, quick, put my things, anything, into a valise."
"Madame is going away!"