D’you mean to say.... [Some part of the facts dawns upon her and she bursts out violently.] Oh, it’s not that the human race are wicked that I mind, or that they’re weak—you can give them backbone; but what I can’t get over is that they are such blooming fools.
Grace.
Will you leave me, both of you? Claude had better find me alone.
Miss Vernon.
[To Archibald, after a glance at Grace.] Come.
[They go out. Grace is horribly frightened. She stands quite still, pulling her handkerchief about. Claude comes in. He has a letter in his hand. He flings it on a table. Grace sees with a start that it is unopened.
Grace.
[Forcing herself to seem natural.] Is the inquest over?
Claude.
[Sinking dejectedly into a chair.] They brought in a verdict of suicide while of unsound mind.