wretch who begs you--[sitting on the settee] to allow him to sit down
for a moment? [AGNES deposits the hat and coat.]

AGNES. Deceive--?

ST. OLPHERTS. My friends arrive, I dine scrappily with them, and hurry
to the Grunwald thinking to catch you over your Zabajone. Dear lady,
you haven't been near the Grunwald.

AGNES. Your women faint sometimes, don't they?

ST. OLPHERTS. My--? [In pain.] Oh, what do you mean?

AGNES. The women in your class of life?

ST. OLPHERTS. Faint? Oh yes, when there's occasion for it.

AGNES. I'm hopelessly low-born; I fainted involuntarily.

ST. OLPHERTS. [Moving closer to her.] Oh, my dear, pray forgive me.
You've recovered? [She nods.] Indisposition agrees with you, evidently.
Your colouring tonight is charming. [Coughing.] You are--delightful--
to--look at.

[GERTRUDE enters, carrying a tray on which are a bowl of soup, a small
decanter of wine, and accessories. She looks at ST. OLPHERTS
unconcernedly, then turns away and places the tray on a table.]

ST. OLPHERTS. [Quietly to AGNES.] Not a servant?