RICHARDSON. 'Oh, ma'am, you are terrifying me.' AMY. 'I wasn't talking to you. You may go. Stop. How long had she been here before I came?' RICHARDSON. 'She--Her what you are speaking about--' AMY. 'Come, I must know.' The terrible admission refuses to pass Richardson's lips, and of a sudden Amy has a dark suspicion. 'Has she gone! Is she here now?' RICHARDSON. 'It was just a chop. What makes you so grudging of a chop?' AMY. 'I don't care what they ate. Has she gone?' RICHARDSON. 'Oh, ma'am.' The little maid, bearing the dishes, backs to the door, opens it with her foot, and escapes from this terrible visitor. The drawn curtains attract Amy's eagle eye, and she looks behind them. There is no one there. She pulls open the door of the cupboard and says firmly, 'Come out.' No one comes. She peeps into the cupboard and finds it empty. A cupboard and no one in it. How strange. She sits down almost in tears, wishing very much for the counsel of Ginevra. Thus Steve finds her when he returns. STEVE. 'I'm awfully glad, Alice, that you--' He stops abruptly at sight of a strange lady. As for Amy, the word 'Alice' brings her to her feet. AMY. 'Sir.' A short remark but withering. STEVE. 'I beg your pardon. I thought--the fact is that I expected--You see you are a stranger to me--my name is Rollo--you are not calling on me, are you?' Amy inclines her head in a way that Ginevra and she have practised. Then she flings back her cloak as suddenly as an expert may open an umbrella. Having done this she awaits results. Steve, however, has no knowledge of how to play his part; he probably favours musical comedy. He says lamely: 'I still think there must be some mistake.' AMY, in italics, 'There is no mistake.' STEVE. 'Then is there anything I can do for you?' AMY, ardently, 'You can do so much.' STEVE. 'Perhaps if you will sit down--'