[She gets up and walks out through the French windows. Cobbett follows her.
Mrs. Insoley.
[Getting up from the table.] I think you should remember, my dear Grace, that suicide is not only very wicked, but very cowardly. I have no patience with the sentimentalities of the present day. Our fathers buried people who were sinful enough to destroy themselves at the cross-roads with a stake in their insides. And it served them right.
[Grace does not answer. Mrs. Insoley, with a shrug of the shoulders, walks out of the room, followed by Miss Hall. As soon as Grace hears the door shut she turns round with an exclamation, half-smothered, of impatient anger.
Grace.
Oh, did you hear? They have the heart to chatter like that when that unhappy girl is lying dead. They haven’t a word of pity. It seems to mean nothing to them that she sacrificed herself. If she died, it was to save her father, so that he shouldn’t be thrown out of work in his old age. And they call her wicked and sinful.
Miss Vernon.
But is that anything new to you? Haven’t you noticed that people always rather resent the heroism of others? They don’t like the claim it makes on them, and the easiest way to defend themselves is with a sneer.
Grace.
I might have saved her life if I’d chosen, but I hadn’t the courage.