LUCAS. Yes?

AGNES. [Turning from him.] If only it could be free from passion!

LUCAS. [In a low voice.] Yes, but--is that possible?

AGNES. [In the same tone, watching him askance, a frightened look in
her eyes.] Why not?

LUCAS. Young man and woman . . . you and love . . . ? Scarcely upon
this earth, my dear Agnes, such a life as you have pictured.

AGNES. I say it can be, it can be--!

[FORTUNE enters, carrying a letter upon a salver, and a beautiful
bouquet of white flowers. He hands the note to LUCAS.]

LUCAS. [Taking the note, glancing at AGNES.] Eh! [To FORTUNE, pointing
to the bouquet.] Qu'avez-vous la?

FORTUNE. Ah, excuse. [Presenting the bouquet to AGNES.] Wiz compliment.
[AGNES takes the bouquet wonderingly.] Tell Madame ze Duke of St
Olphert bring it in person, 'e says.

LUCAS. [Opening the note.] Est-il parti?

FORTUNE. 'E did not get out of 'is gondola.

LUCAS. Bien. [FORTUNE withdraws. Reading the note aloud.] "While