Bea. (following Sir Peter to foot of stairs) But your patients? What will they do without you? (smiling sweetly)
Sir P. (on stairs) What will they do? Recover. (exit L.)
Beatrice stands at the foot of the stairs, watching them off. Normantower is sitting with his back to staircase. He rises and crosses thoughtfully to R.C. corner of table. Beatrice advances and stands looking at him.
Nor. Are they gone?
Bea. (C.) Yes. Oh, Ned, can you ever forgive me? (L. of Normantower)
Nor. Forgive you? I forgave you long ago. Indeed I am grateful to you for teaching me a lesson which I shall never forget.
Bea. You are cruel; but I suppose I deserve it. (on a line with Normantower)
Nor. My grievance is a thing of the past. I have no wish to injure you or to cause you pain, and I should not have expressed myself so freely just now, had I known that you were present or that I was speaking of the wife of a friend. (a step down)
Bea. You have been misinformed. There is not a word of truth in what you have heard about me.