[_Mildly._] Well, whether young Filson's a puppy or not, _now_ perhaps you begin to appreciate my motive for intruding on you?

PHILIP.

[_Halting._] Hardly.

SIR TIMOTHY.

You don't! [_Rumpling his hair._] I'll try to make it plainer to you.

[_Behind the smoking-table._] Er--will I smoke one of your cigarettes?----

PHILIP.

[_Frigidly polite._] Please.

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Taking a cigarette from the box on the table._] Mr. Mackworth, if Filson's prognostications as to the result of the quarrel between you and his sister are fulfilled, it's my intention, after a decent interval, to renew my appeal to her to marry me. [_Striking a match._]

Is that clear?

PHILIP.

Perfectly. [_Stiffly._] But all the same, I'm still at a loss----

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Lighting his cigarette._] At a loss, are you! [_Warmly._] You're at a loss to understand that I'm not the sort of man who'd steal a march upon another where a woman's concerned, and take advantage of his misfortunes in a dirty manner! [_Coming to_ PHILIP.] Mackworth--I'll drop the Mister, if you've no objection--Mackworth, I promise you I won't move a step till I have your a.s.surance that your split with Madame de Chaumie is a mortal one, and that the coast is open to all comers. That's my part o' the bargain, and I expect you on your side to treat me with equal fairness and frankness. [_Offering his hand._] You will?

PHILIP.

My dear Sir Timothy--my dear Barradell--[_shaking_ SIR TIMOTHY's _hand heartily_.] you're the most chivalrous fellow I've ever met!

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Walking away._] Ah, go on now!

PHILIP.

[_Following him._] I apologize sincerely for being so curt.

SIR TIMOTHY.

Don't mention it.

PHILIP.

It's true, Ottoline and I _have_ had a bad fall out. [_Keenly._] Did Filson give you any particulars----?

SIR TIMOTHY.

I gathered 'twas something arising out of a book of yours----

PHILIP.

Y-y-yes; a silly affair in which I was utterly in the wrong. I lost my accursed temper--made a disgraceful exhibition of myself. [_Touching_ SIR TIMOTHY's _arm._] I _will_ be quite straight with you, Barradell--Robbie Roope has just gone to her with a note from me. I don't want to pain you; but Robbie and I hope that, after a night's rest--[_The bell rings in the vestibule._] Excuse me--my servant isn't in. [_He goes into the vestibule, leaving the door open._ SIR TIMOTHY _picks up his hat. On opening the outer door,_ PHILIP _confronts_ OTTOLINE.] Otto----!

OTTOLINE.

[_In the doorway, giving him both her hands._] Are you alone, Philip?

PHILIP.

[_Drawing her into the vestibule, his eyes sparkling._] No. [_With a motion of his head._] Sir Timothy Barradell----

[OTTOLINE _pa.s.ses_ PHILIP _and enters the room, holding out her hand to_ SIR TIMOTHY. _Her eyes are black-rimmed from sleeplessness; but whatever asperity she has displayed overnight has disappeared, and she is again full of softness and charm._

OTTOLINE.

Sir Tim!

PHILIP.

[_Shutting the outer door--breathing freely._] Kind of Sir Timothy to look me up, isn't it?

OTTOLINE.

[_To_ SIR TIMOTHY.] _Vous etes un vaurien!_ When did you return?

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Who has flung his cigarette into the grate--crestfallen._] The day before yesterday.

OTTOLINE.

Then I mustn't scold you for not having been to see us yet.

[_Wonderingly._] You find time to call on Mr. Mackworth, though!

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_With a gulp._] I--I was on my way to my solicitors, who are in Raymond Buildings, and I remembered that I knew Mackworth years ago----

PHILIP.

[_Loitering near the vestibule door, impatient for_ SIR TIMOTHY's _departure._] When I was a rollicking man-about-town, eh, Barradell!

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Retaining_ OTTOLINE's _hand--to her, earnestly._] My dear Madame de Chaumie----