[_Grimly._] For your share in the business.

ROOPE.

[_With a nod._] The fatal luncheon in South Audley Street. However, she soon softened, and came and knelt by the fire. And suddenly--you've seen a child fall on the pavement and cut its knees, haven't you, Phil?----

PHILIP.

Of course I have.

ROOPE.

That's how she cried. I was really alarmed.

PHILIP.

The--the end of it being----?

ROOPE.

[_Dismally._] The end of it being that she went off to bed, declaring that she recognizes that the breach between you is beyond healing, and that she's resolved never to cross your path again if she can avoid it.

PHILIP.

[_Laying his pipe aside._] Ha! [_Scowling at_ ROOPE.] And so this is the result of your self-appointed mission, is it?

ROOPE.

[_Hurt._] That's rather ungrateful, Phil----

PHILIP.

[_Starting up and walking away to the left._] P'sha!

ROOPE.

If you'd heard how I reasoned with her----!

PHILIP.

[_Striding up and down._] What had I better do? It's good of you to be here so early. [ROOPE _rises._] I'm _not_ ungrateful, Robbie. Advise me.

ROOPE.

[_Stiffly._] I a.s.sume, from your tone, that what you _wish_ to do is to--er----?

PHILIP.

To abase myself before her; to grovel at her feet and crave her pardon for my behaviour of last night. What else should I want to do, in G.o.d's name!

ROOPE.

[_Dryly._] I see, you've slept on it.

PHILIP.

Laid awake on it. [_Fiercely._] Do I look as if I'd slept the sleep of a healthy infant?

ROOPE.

I don't know anything about infants, I am happy to say, healthy or ailing; but certainly your treatment of Madame de Chaumie was atrocious.

PHILIP.

Brutal, savage, inhuman! [_Halting and extending his arms._] And what's been her fault? She's dared to love me eagerly, impetuously, uncontrollably--_me_, a conceited, egotistical fellow who is no more worth her devotion than the pompous beast who opens her father's front-door! And because, out of her love, she commits a heedless, impulsive act which deals a blow at my rotten pride, I slap her face and turn my back upon her, and suffer her to leave my rooms as though she's a charwoman detected in prigging silver from my cash-box!

[_Clasping his brow and groaning._] Oh--! [_In sudden fury at seeing_ ROOPE _thoughtfully examining his hat._] d.a.m.n it, Robbie, stop fiddling with your hat or you'll drive me crazy!

[_He sits on the settee on the left and rests his head on his fists._ ROOPE _hastily deposits his hat on the smoking-table._

ROOPE.

[_Approaching_ PHILIP _coldly._] I was considering, dear excellent friend--but perhaps in your present state of irritability----

PHILIP.

[_Holding out his hand penitently._] Shut up!

ROOPE.

[_Presenting_ PHILIP _with two fingers._] I was considering--when you almost sprang at my throat--I was considering that it isn't at all unlikely that Madame de Chaumie's frame of mind is a trifle less inflexible this morning. _She_ has slept--or laid awake--on the events of last night too, recollect.

PHILIP.

[_Raising his head._] Having been kicked out of this place a few hours ago, her affection for me revives with the rattle of the milk-cans!

ROOPE.

[_Evasively._] At any rate, she must be conscious that you were smarting under provocation. She confessed as much during our talk.

[_Magnanimously._] Even _I_ admit you had provocation.

PHILIP.

_That_ never influenced a woman, Robbie. Besides, I've insulted this one before--grossly insulted her, in the old days in Paris----

ROOPE.

Ancient history! _My_ advice is--since you invite it--my advice is that you write her a letter----

PHILIP.