GERTRUDE pours out wine and gives her the glass. AGNES
drains it eagerly and replaces it.]
GERTRUDE. Agnes--
AGNES. Yes?
GERTRUDE. You are dressed very beautifully.
AGNES. Do you think so?
GERTRUDE. Don't you know it? Who made you that gown?
AGNES. Bardini.
GERTRUDE. I shouldn't have credited the little woman with such
excellent ideas.
AGNES. Oh, Lucas gave her the idea when he--when he--
GERTRUDE. When he ordered it?
AGNES. Yes.
GERTRUDE. Oh, the whole thing came as a surprise to you?
AGNES. Er--quite.
GERTRUDE. I noticed the box this afternoon when I called.
AGNES. Mr. Cleeve wishes me to appear more like--more like--
GERTRUDE. An ordinary smart woman. [Contemptuously.] Well, you ought to
find no difficulty in managing that. You can make yourself very
charming, it appears.
[AGNES again reaches out a hand towards the wine. GERTRUDE pours a very
little wine into the wine-glass and takes up the glass; AGNES holds out
her hand to receive it.]
GERTRUDE. Do you mind my drinking from your glass?
AGNES. [Staring at her.] No.
[GERTRUDE empties the glass and then places it, in a marked way, on the
side of the table farthest from AGNES.]
GERTRUDE. [With a little shudder.] Ugh! Ugh! [AGNES moves away from
GERTRUDE, to the end of the settee, her head bowed, her hands
clenched.
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