I hope you're better.
AGNES. [Turning away, GERTRUDE watching her.] Thank you, I am quite
well.
AMOS. [Gruffly.] Are you ready, Gertrude?
GERTRUDE. No, dear, not yet. I want you to help me.
AMOS. In what way?
GERTRUDE. I want you to join me in persuading Mrs. Ebbsmith--my
friend, Mrs. Ebbsmith--to come to Ketherick with me.
AMOS. My dear sister--!
GERTRUDE. [Firmly.] Please, Amos!
AGNES. Stop a moment! Mr. Winterfield, your sister doesn't in the least
understand how matters are with me. I am returning to England, but with
Mr. Cleeve. [Recklessly.] Oh, you'd hear of it eventually! He is
reconciled to his wife.
GERTRUDE. Oh--! Then, surely, you--!
AGNES. No. The reconciliation goes no further than mere outward
appearances. He relies upon me as much as ever. [Beating her hands
together passionately.] He can't spare me--can't spare me!
AMOS. [In a low voice to GERTRUDE.] Are you satisfied?
GERTRUDE. I suspected something of the kind. [Going to AGNES, gripping
her wrist tightly.] Pull yourself out of the mud! Get up out of the
mud!
AGNES. I have no will to--no desire to!
GERTRUDE. You mad thing!
AGNES. [Releasing herself, facing GERTRUDE and AMOS.] You're only
breaking in upon my hour.
GERTRUDE. Your hour--?
AGNES. [Waving them away.
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