Id who hates dust on her mantelpiece--I'm fidgety not to make some sort
of a bluff at putting this thing on a business basis. WARDEN. Excuse me,
Miss Godesby, I think Sterling ought to know the truth. STERLING. _Now_
what? MISS GODESBY. Well, the truth is, my fool of a brother has kicked
up an infernal row, and refuses to hold his tongue. STERLING. Then I'm
ruined after all! MISS GODESBY. Wait, I've left him with Mr. Mason. I
feel certain I can assure his silence if I can only show him some sort
of an agreement to pay, an acknowledgment of the--the--affair, signed
and sealed. BLANCHE. Signed by whom? MISS GODESBY. Your husband and
yourself will do. STERLING. But both names are worthless. MISS GODESBY.
Not as a point of honor. STERLING. Ah! no, not my wife's. MISS GODESBY.
Nor yours to me. Come along! [_She goes to the table with_ STERLING,
_and unfolding a paper gives it to him. He signs it._ WARDEN. [_Aside
to_ BLANCHE, _apologizing for his presence._] She made me come--she
wouldn't come alone; otherwise I should have waited till you sent for
me. BLANCHE. It's as well--I've decided. Oh, I wonder if I'm doing
wrong. [_Looking him straight in the face._ WARDEN. [_Looking back
searchingly in hers to read the truth, but believing that she will
certainly leave her husband._] No, _you_ can't do wrong! But I must warn
you of one thing--I'm not any longer the controlled man I was.
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