]
LUCAS. [Shaking hands with GERTRUDE.] How do you do, Mrs Thorpe? I've
just had a wave of the hand from your brother.
GERTRUDE. Where is he?
LUCAS. On his back in a gondola, a pipe in his mouth as usual, gazing
skywards. [Going on to the balcony.] He's within hail. [GERTRUDE goes
quickly to the door, followed by AGNES.] There! By the Palazzo Sforza.
[He re-enters the room; GERTRUDE has disappeared. He is going towards
the door.] Let me get hold of him, Mrs. Thorpe.
AGNES. [Standing before LUCAS, quietly] She knows, Lucas, dear.
LUCAS. Does she?
AGNES. She overheard some gossip at the Caffe Quadri yesterday, and
began questioning me; so I told her.
LUCAS. [Taking off his coat.] Adieu to them, then--eh?
AGNES. [Assisting him.] Adieu.
LUCAS. I intended to write to the brother directly they had left
Venice, to explain.
AGNES. Your describing me as "Mrs. Cleeve" at the hotel in Florence
helped to lead us into this; after we move from here I must always be,
frankly, "Mrs. Ebbsmith."
LUCAS. These were decent people. You and she had formed quite an
attachment?
AGNES. Yes.
[She places his coat, &c. on a chair, then fetches her work-basket from
the cabinet.]
LUCAS. There's something of the man in your nature, Agnes.
AGNES. I've anathematised my womanhood often enough.
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