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Page 44
DUCHESS.
I recognise how fitting it is that you should bring your wild, irregular
career to a close; but after to-morrow I shall cease to be a spectator
of these preliminaries.
QUEX.
[_His eyes sparkling._] After to-morrow!
DUCHESS.
Yes, I rejoin poor dear Strood on Friday. True, he has four nurses--he
always had four nurses, if you remember?
QUEX.
[_Sympathetically._] Three or four.
DUCHESS.
But then, nurses are but nurses. [_Nobly._] I must not forget that I am
a wife, Harry.
QUEX.
No, no--you mustn't forget that.
DUCHESS.
[_Gazing into his eyes._] And so, between you and me, [_placing her
hands upon his shoulders_] it is over.
QUEX.
[_Promptly._] Over.
DUCHESS.
Finally, irrevocably over.
QUEX.
[_Freeing himself._] Absolutely over. [_Taking her hand and bowing over
it solemnly._] Done with.
[_He walks away._
DUCHESS.
[_Moving slowly._] That is--almost over.
QUEX.
[_Turning sharply._] Almost?
DUCHESS.
We have yet to say good-bye, you know.
QUEX.
[_Returning to her, apprehensively._] We--we have said good-bye.
DUCHESS.
Ah, no, no!
QUEX.
[_Again bowing over her hand--with simulated feeling._] Good-bye.
DUCHESS.
[_Looking round._] What! _here_?
QUEX.
[_Humouring her._] This romantic old garden! [_pointing to the
statuary_] these silent witnesses--beholders, it is likely, of many
similar scenes! the--the--setting sun! Could any situation be more
appropriate?
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