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LORD ILLINGWORTH. How curious! At this moment you look exactly as
you looked the night you left me twenty years ago. You have just
the same expression in your mouth. Upon my word, Rachel, no woman
ever loved me as you did. Why, you gave yourself to me like a
flower, to do anything I liked with. You were the prettiest of
playthings, the most fascinating of small romances . . . [Pulls out
watch.] Quarter to two! Must be strolling back to Hunstanton.
Don't suppose I shall see you there again. I'm sorry, I am,
really. It's been an amusing experience to have met amongst people
of one's own rank, and treated quite seriously too, one's mistress,
and one's -

[MRS. ARBUTHNOT snatches up glove and strikes LORD ILLINGWORTH
across the face with it. LORD ILLINGWORTH starts. He is dazed by
the insult of his punishment. Then he controls himself, and goes
to window and looks out at his son. Sighs and leaves the room.]

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. [Falls sobbing on the sofa.] He would have said
it. He would have said it.

[Enter GERALD and HESTER from the garden.]

GERALD. Well, dear mother. You never came out after all. So we
have come in to fetch you. Mother, you have not been crying?
[Kneels down beside her.]

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. My boy! My boy! My boy! [Running her fingers
through his hair.]

HESTER. [Coming over.] But you have two children now. You'll let
me be your daughter?

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. [Looking up.] Would you choose me for a mother?

HESTER. You of all women I have ever known.

[They move towards the door leading into garden with their arms
round each other's waists. GERALD goes to table L.C. for his hat.
On turning round he sees LORD ILLINGWORTH'S glove lying on the
floor, and picks it up.]

GERALD. Hallo, mother, whose glove is this? You have had a
visitor. Who was it?

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. [Turning round.] Oh! no one. No one in
particular. A man of no importance.

CURTAIN


THE END