The Gay Lord Quex by Arthur W. Pinero


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Page 68

Oh, my reputation!

QUEX.

I'm--done.

DUCHESS.

My reputation! I have never ceased to guard that, as you know.

QUEX.

I've lost her.

DUCHESS.

My reputation!

QUEX.

Of course, I deserve it. But--

[_He sits, his head bowed._

DUCHESS.

[_Looking up._] To think--to think that I allowed this plausible
creature to thrust herself upon me! [_He raises his head, glaring
fiercely. She beats the pillow._] Oh! oh! my reputation in the hands of
this low creature!

QUEX.

Ah--! [_With a half-smothered cry he goes to the door and pulls it open.
The_ DUCHESS _runs after him and seizes his arm_.] I said I'd wring her
damned neck--I told Frayne so.

DUCHESS.

[_Pushing him away from the door._] Don't! don't! violence will not help
us. [_She closes the door; he stands clutching the chair by the
writing-table. The clock strikes twelve._] Midnight. [_Leaning upon a
chair._] At any rate, you had better go now.

QUEX.

[_Turning to her._] I beg your pardon; I regret having lost control of
myself.

DUCHESS.

[_Miserably._] It has been a wretchedly disappointing meeting.

QUEX.

[_Heavily._] Let us see each other in the morning. [_She nods._] Be
walking in the grounds by nine.

DUCHESS.

Yes. [_Rallying._] After all, Harry, there may be nothing behind this
woman's behaviour. It may have been only the vulgarest curiosity on her
part.

QUEX.

[_Incredulously._] Ha! However, in that case--

DUCHESS.

Money.

QUEX.

Money.

DUCHESS.

I ought to sound her directly she presents herself at my bedside, ought
I not?

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Tue 23rd Dec 2025, 19:29