STEVE. 'Your mother? Fond of me!' AMY. 'How dare you look pleased.' STEVE. 'I'm not--I didn't mean to. I say, I wish you would tell me who you are.' AMY. 'As if you didn't know.' STEVE, in a dream, 'Fond of me! I can't believe it.' Rather wistfully: 'How could she be?' AMY. 'It was all your fault. Such men as you--pitiless men--you made her love you.' STEVE, still elated, 'Do you think I am that kind of man?' AMY. 'Oh, sir, let her go. You are strong and she is weak. Think of her poor husband, and give me back the letters.' STEVE. 'On my word of honour--' Here arrives Richardson, so anxious to come that she is propelled into the room like a ball. 'What is it?' RICHARDSON. 'A gentleman downstairs, sir, wanting to see you.' AMY, saying the right thing at once, 'He must not find me here. My reputation--' STEVE. 'I can guess who it is. Let me think.' He is really glad of the interruption. 'See here, I'll keep him downstairs for a moment. Richardson, take this lady to the upper landing until I have brought him in. Then show her out.' RICHARDSON. 'Oh, lor'.' AMY, rooting herself to the floor, 'The letters!' STEVE, as he goes, 'Write to me, write to me. I must know more of this.' RICHARDSON. 'Come quick, Miss.' AMY, fixing her, 'You are not deceiving me? You are sure it isn't a lady?' RICHARDSON. 'Yes, Miss--he said his name was Colonel Grey.' Ginevra would have known that it must be the husband, but for the moment Amy is appalled.