OLPHERTS. Impulse doesn't account for the possession of those
gorgeous trappings.
AGNES. These rags? A surprise gift from Lucas, today.
ST. OLPHERTS. Really, my dear, I believe I've helped to bring about my
own defeat. [Laughing softly.] Ho, ho, ho! How disgusted the Cleeve
family will be! Ha, ha! [Testily.] Come, why don't you smile--laugh?
You can afford to do so! Show your pretty white teeth! Laugh!
AGNES. [Hysterically.] Ha, ha, ha! Ha!
ST. OLPHERTS. That's better! [Pushing the cigarette-box towards him,
she takes a cigarette and places it between her lips. He also takes a
cigarette gaily. They smoke--she standing, with an elbow resting upon
the top of the stove, looking down upon him.]
ST. OLPHERTS. [As he lights his cigarette.] This isn't explosive, I
hope? No nitric and sulphuric acid, with glycerine--eh? [Eyeing her
wonderingly and admiringly.] By jove! Which is you--the shabby,
shapeless rebel who entertained me this afternoon or--[kissing the
tips of his fingers to her]--or that?
AGNES. This--this. [Seating herself, slowly and thoughtfully, facing
the stove, her back turned to him.] My sex has found me out.
ST. OLPHERTS. Ha! tsch! [Between his teeth.] Damn it, for your sake I
almost wish Lucas was a different sort of feller!
AGNES. [Partly to herself, with intensity.
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