_Agnes rises._ LUCAS: Oh, my dear gir...

The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith

Agnes Ebbsmith Lucas Cleeve

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Agnes rises.

LUCAS: Oh, my dear girl--!

AGNES: (Throwing her cigarette under the stove) I’m quite myself again, Lucas dear. Watch me--look! (Walking firmly)

LUCAS: No trembling?

AGNES: Not a flutter. (Watching her open hand) My hand is absolutely steady. (He takes her hand and kisses it upon the palm.) Ah!--

LUCAS: (Looking at her hand) No, it is shaking.

AGNES: Yes, when you--when you--oh, Lucas!-- (She inks into a chair, turning her back upon him, and covering her face with her hands; her shoulders heaving.)

LUCAS: (Going to her) Agnes dear!

AGNES: (Taking out her handkerchief) Let me--let me--

LUCAS: (Bending over her) I’ve never seen you--

AGNES: No, I’ve never been a crying woman. But some great change has befallen me, I believe. What is it? That swoon--it wasn’t mere faintness,

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