WOFF. His wife here! (To servant) Shew the lady up stairs!
[Exit Servant.
What does she come here for?
TRIP. I don’t know, and I wish to heaven she had stayed away! You will retire, of course you will retire?
WOFF. No, sir! I will know why she comes to you (reflects, enters the picture again). Keep it from me if you can!
[Triplet sinks into a chair, the picture of consternation.]
TRIP. (with a ghastly smile, going very slowly towards the door). I am going to be in the company of the two loveliest women in England; I would rather be between a lion and a unicorn—like the royal arms.
[A tap at the door.
[Enter Mabel Vane in hood and cloak, a mask in her hand.]
TRIP. Madam!