LUCAS. [Smiling.] I believe I have added to his experience of the
obscure corners of Venice during the past week.

GERTRUDE. I--I don't--Why?

LUCAS. By so frequently putting him to the inconvenience of avoiding
me.

GERTRUDE. Oh, Mr. Cleeve, we--I--I--

LUCAS. Please tell your brother that I asked after him.

GERTRUDE. I--I can't; he--doesn't know I've--I've--

LUCAS. Ah! Really? [With a bow.] Good-bye. [He goes out, AGNES
accompanying him to the door.]

GERTRUDE. [To herself.] Brute! [To AGNES.] Oh, I suppose Mr. Cleeve has
made me look precisely as I feel.

AGNES. How?

GERTRUDE. Like people deserve to feel who do godly, mean things.

[FORTUNE appears.]

FORTUNE. [To AGNES, significantly.] Mr. Cleeve 'as jus' gone out.

AGNES. Vous savez, n'est-ce pas?