ACT III
flaring out like that. I didn’t mean it, but the truth is, it’s getting on my nerves, the whole thing . . . seeing her like that . . . waking up and hearing her crying in the night and pretending it was nothing. I’m fond of her. She’s been a good wife to me, and I can’t bear to see her unhappy.
Jenny : Of course.
Mr. Grey : I didn’t mean to ask no questions, and of course I know I’ve got no right. . . . I didn’t mind the neighbours’ talk—I know Margaret—but when it came to hearing her cry like that . . . well, I just had to come. What is it? Is he dying—is that it?
Jenny : No . . . no, he’s not dying. In fact, he’s getting better. There was a doctor here this afternoon. He says he’ll be all right . . . quite soon.
Mr. Grey : I see. Does Margaret know that?
Jenny : Yes. The doctor told her just now.
Mr. Grey : Oh, that’s good. I’m glad of that. Margaret will be glad.
Jenny : Yes.
Mr. Grey : She’s been fretting herself something awful . . . coming to see him every day.
Jenny : Yes. I don’t suppose she'll be coming any more . . . now.
Mr. Grey : Out of danger, is he? I’m glad. Oh, it’s not that I mind her coming. Don’t
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