ST. OLPHERTS. My excuse to Mrs. Ebbsmith for not dining at the Grunwald
--it was a perfectly legitimate one, dear Lucas. I really was expecting
visitors.

LUCAS. [Wonderingly.] Yes?

ST. OLPHERTS. [With a little cough and a drawn face.] Oh, I am not so
well tonight. Damn these people for troubling me! Damn 'em for keeping
me hopping about! Damn 'em for every shoot I feel in my leg. Visitors
from England--they've arrived.

LUCAS. But what--?

ST. OLPHERTS. I shall die of gout some day, Lucas. Er--your wife is
here.

LUCAS. Sybil!

ST. OLPHERTS. She's come through with your brother. Sandford's a worse
prig than ever--and I'm in shockin' pain.

LUCAS. This--this is your doing?

ST. OLPHERTS. Yes. Damn you, don't keep me standing!

[AGNES enters with LUCAS'S hat and coat. She stops abruptly on seeing
ST. OLPHERTS.]

ST. OLPHERTS. [By the settee--playfully, through his pain] Ah, my dear
Mrs. Ebbsmith, how can you have the heart to deceive an invalid, a poor