_] So her
Grace has packed herself off to Mrs. Eden's room. [_Firmly._] Who rang
for me, please?
QUEX.
_I_ rang.
SOPHY.
You? what for?
QUEX.
Oh, you and I are going to have a cosy little chat together.
SOPHY.
[_Haughtily._] I don't understand you.
QUEX.
We'll understand one another well enough, in a minute.
[_He lights another cigarette and seats himself upon the settee. She
moves to the back of a chair, eyeing him distrustfully._
QUEX.
Now then! You've been at the key-hole, have you?
SOPHY.
[_Slightly embarrassed._] Y--yes.
QUEX.
[_Sharply._] Eh?
SOPHY.
[_Defiantly._] Yes; you know I have.
QUEX.
Ah. And I should like to know a little more, while we are upon the
delicate subject of spying. When I found you behind the cypress-hedge
this evening before dinner--
SOPHY.
Well?
QUEX.
You had just at that moment returned to the Italian garden, you said.
SOPHY.
Yes, so I said.
QUEX.
As a matter of fact, you had been there some time, I presume?
SOPHY.
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