[There can be but one reply from a good wife to such a charge, and at
once the COMTESSE is left alone with her shame. Anon a footman
appears. You know how they come and go.]

FOOTMAN. You rang, my lady?

COMTESSE. Did I? Ah, yes, but why? [He is but lately from the
ploughshare and cannot help her. In this quandary her eyes alight
upon the bag. She is unfortunately too abandoned to feel her shame;
she still thinks that she has the choice of weapons. She takes the
speech from the bag and bestows it on her servitor.] Take this to Mr.
Venables, please, and say it is from Mr. Shand. [THOMAS--but in the
end we shall probably call him JOHN--departs with the dangerous
papers; and when MAGGIE returns she finds that the COMTESSE is once
more engaged in her interrupted game of Patience.] You did not find
him?

[All the bravery has dropped from MAGGIE's face.]

MAGGIE. I didn't see him, but I heard him. SHE is with him. I think
they are coming here.

[The COMTESSE is suddenly kind again.]

COMTESSE. Sybil? Shall I get rid of her?

MAGGIE. No, I want her to be here, too. Now I shall know.

[The COMTESSE twists the little thing round.]