JUDITH. Shall I have long to wait?

SERGEANT. No, mum, not a minute. We kep him in the Bridewell for
the night; and he's just been brought over here for the court
martial. Don't fret, mum: he slep like a child, and has made a
rare good breakfast.

JUDITH (incredulously). He is in good spirits!

SERGEANT. Tip top, mum. The chaplain looked in to see him last
night; and he won seventeen shillings off him at spoil five. He
spent it among us like the gentleman he is. Duty's duty, mum, of
course; but you're among friends here. (The tramp of a couple of
soldiers is heard approaching.) There: I think he's coming.
(Richard comes in, without a sign of care or captivity in his
bearing. The sergeant nods to the two soldiers, and shows them
the key of the room in his hand. They withdraw.) Your good lady,
sir.

RICHARD (going to her). What! My wife. My adored one. (He takes
her hand and kisses it with a perverse, raffish gallantry.) How
long do you allow a brokenhearted husband for leave-taking,
Sergeant?

SERGEANT. As long as we can, sir. We shall not disturb you till
the court sits.

RICHARD. But it has struck the hour.

SERGEANT. So it has, sir; but there's a delay. General Burgoyne's