I knew it already.
Miss Macfarlane.
Oh, but it's none so bad, my dear boy--if it's a failure, it's a
good wholesome failure. (_Crosses_ L _to fire._)
(_Enter Jane, showing in Mrs. Tremaine._)
Jane.
Mrs. Tremaine! (_Exit Jane._)
Mrs. Denham.
My dear Blanche!
Mrs. Tremaine.
My dear Constance! (_They embrace._)
Mrs. Denham.
My husband, Mrs. Tremaine. Miss Macfarlane, Mr. Fitzgerald. (_She
introduces them._)
Fitzgerald.
(_thrusting the book into his side pocket_) Well, I must run away.
(_Crosses_ C.)
Denham.
Must you go?
Fitzgerald.
Yes--I've--I've a lot of things to do. Good-bye. (_Shakes hands
absently._)
Denham.
Oh, Fitz, I want to show you something. Will you excuse me for a
moment, Mrs. Tremaine?
(_Exeunt Denham and Fitzgerald._)
Mrs. Denham.
Do sit down, and let us have a little quiet talk.
(_They sit down. Mrs. Denham crosses and sits on sofa_ R;
_Mrs. Tremaine on sofa_ L, _and Miss Macfarlane in armchair
by fire, quietly observe each other._)
You are looking splendidly, Blanche.
Mrs. Tremaine.
Yes, I'm in very good form. But you're not looking well--rather
pale, you know.
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