'Amy, why can't I make some sacrifice
as well as you?'
Amy seems about to make a somewhat grudging reply, but the unexpected
arrival of the man who has so strangely won her seals her lips.
AMY. 'You!' with a depth of meaning, 'Oh, sir.'
STEVE, the most nervous of the company, 'I felt I must come. Miss
Grey, I am in the greatest distress, as the unhappy cause of all this
trouble.'
AMY, coldly, 'You should have thought of that before.'
STEVE. 'It was dense of me not to understand sooner--very dense.' He
looks at her with wistful eyes. 'Must I marry you, Miss Grey?'
AMY, curling her lip, 'Ah, that is what you are sorry for!'
STEVE. 'Yes--horribly sorry.' Hastily, 'Not for myself. To tell you
the truth, I'd be--precious glad to risk it--I think.'
AMY, with a glance at Ginevra, 'You would?'
STEVE. 'But very sorry for you. It seems such a shame to you--so young
and attractive--and the little you know of me so--unfortunate.'
AMY. 'You mean you could never love me?'
STEVE. 'I don't mean that at all.'
AMY. 'Ginevra!'
Indeed Ginevra feels that she has been obliterated quite long enough.
GINEVRA, with a touch of testiness in her tone, 'Amy--introduce me.'
AMY. 'Mr. Stephen Rollo--Miss Dunbar. Miss Dunbar knows all.'
Ginevra makes a movement that the cynical might describe as brushing
Amy aside.
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