ANN.
Hm!
Well, at all events, she wouldn't let you if she were wise.
So that's settled.
And now I can't talk any more.
Say you forgive me, and that the subject is closed.
OCTAVIUS.
I have nothing to forgive; and the subject is closed.
And if the wound is open, at least you shall never see it bleed.
ANN.
Poetic to the last, Tavy.
Goodbye, dear. [She pats his check; has an impulse to kiss him and then another impulse of distaste which prevents her; finally runs away through the garden and into the villa].
Octavius again takes refuge at the table, bowing his head on his arms and sobbing softly.
Mrs Whitefield, who has been pottering round the Granada shops, and has a net full of little parcels in her hand, comes in through the gate and sees him.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [running to him and lifting his head] What's the matter, Tavy?
Are you ill?
OCTAVIUS.
No, nothing, nothing.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [still holding his head, anxiously] But you're crying.
Is it about Violet's marriage?
OCTAVIUS.
No, no.
Who told you about Violet?
MRS WHITEFIELD. [restoring the head to its owner] I met Roebuck and that awful old Irishman.
Are you sure you're not ill?
What's the matter?
OCTAVIUS. [affectionately] It's nothing—only a man's broken heart.
Doesn't that sound ridiculous?
MRS WHITEFIELD.
But what is it all about?
Has Ann been doing anything to you?
OCTAVIUS.
It's not Ann's fault.
And don't think for a moment that I blame you.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [startled] For what?
OCTAVIUS. [pressing her hand consolingly] For nothing.
I said I didn't blame you.
MRS WHITEFIELD.
But I haven't done anything.
What's the matter?
OCTAVIUS. [smiling sadly] Can't you guess?
I daresay you are right to prefer Jack to me as a husband for Ann; but I love Ann; and it hurts rather. [He rises and moves away from her towards the middle of the lawn].
MRS WHITEFIELD. [following him hastily] Does Ann say that I want her to marry Jack?
OCTAVIUS.
Yes: she has told me.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [thoughtfully] Then I'm very sorry for you, Tavy.
It's only her way of saying SHE wants to marry Jack.
Little she cares what I say or what I want!
OCTAVIUS.
But she would not say it unless she believed it.