how ashamed I am of my bearishness this afternoon.

GERTRUDE. [Arranging the shawl about AGNES'S shoulders.] Hush, please!

AGNES. Are you looking at my shawl? Lucas brought it in with him, as a
reward for my coming out of that stupid faint. I--I have always
refused to be--spoilt in this way, but now--now--

LUCAS. [Breaking in deliberately.] Pretty work upon it, is there not,
Mrs. Thorpe?

GERTRUDE. Charming. [Going to the door, which LUCAS opens for her.]
Thank you.[She passes out. AGNES rises.]

LUCAS. Oh, my dear girl--!

AGNES. [Throwing her cigarette under the stove.] I'm quite myself
again, Lucas dear. Watch me--look! [Walking firmly.]

LUCAS. No trembling?

AGNES. Not a flutter. [Watching her open hand.] My hand is absolutely
steady. [He takes her hand and kisses it upon the palm.] Ah!--

LUCAS. [Looking at her hand.] No, it is shaking.

AGNES. Yes, when you--when you--oh, Lucas!--[She sinks into a chair,
turning her back upon him, and covering her face with her hands; her
shoulders heaving.]