He must have suspected something--
didn't he say anything to anybody?
SIR JAMES. He told Gerald, apparently. For some reason he preferred
to keep his father in the dark.
GERALD (eagerly). That was the day you came down to us, Wentworth;
five days before he was arrested. I asked him to tell you, but he
wouldn't.
WENTWORTH. Oh, it was too late then. Marcus had absconded by that
time.
GERALD (earnestly). Nobody could have helped him then, could they?
WENTWORTH. Oh no.
GERALD (to himself). Thank God.
SIR JAMES (to LADY FARRINGDON as he looks at his watch). Well,
dear, I really think you ought to try to eat something.
LADY FARRINGDON. I couldn't, James. (Getting up) But you must have
_your_ lunch.
SIR JAMES. Well, one oughtn't to neglect one's health, of course.
But I insist on your having a glass of claret anyhow, Mary. What
about you, Gerald?
GERALD. I'm all right. I'll wait for Bob. I've had something.
LADY FARRINGDON. You won't let Bob go without seeing us?
GERALD. Of course not, dear.
(He goes with them to the door and sees them out.)
GERALD (coming back to WENTWORTH). Three months. By Jove! that's
nothing.
WENTWORTH. It's long enough for a man with a grievance. It gives
him plenty of time to brood about it.
GERALD (anxiously). Who has Bob got a grievance against particularly?
WENTWORTH.
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