[She draws a long, deep breath, then, sitting away from him, resumes
her shawl mechanically.]
AGNES. Now, you promised me to run out to the Capello Nero to get a
little food.
LUCAS. Oh, I'd rather--
AGNES. [Rising.] Dearest, you need it.
LUCAS. [Rising.] Well--Fortune shall fetch my hat and coat.
AGNES. Fortune! Are you going to take all my work from me? [She is
walking towards the door; the sound of his voice stops her.]
LUCAS. Agnes! [She returns.] A thousand thoughts have rushed through my
brain this last hour or two. I've been thinking--my wife--
AGNES. Yes?
LUCAS. My wife--she will soon get tired of her present position. If,
by-and-bye, there should be a divorce, there would be nothing to
prevent our marrying.
AGNES. Our--marrying!
LUCAS. [Sitting, not looking at her, as if discussing the matter with
himself.] It might be to my advantage to settle again in London some
day. After all, scandals quickly lose their keen edge. What would you
say?
AGNES. Marriage--
LUCAS. Ah, remember, we're rational beings for the future. However, we
needn't talk about it now.
AGNES. No.
LUCAS. Still, I assume you wouldn't oppose it. You would marry me if I
wished it?
AGNES. [in a low voice.] Yes.
LUCAS. That's a sensible girl! By Jove, I am hungry! [He lights a
cigarette as she walks slowly to the door, then throws himself idly
back on the settee.
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