_He_ knew right enough. (Bringing
out letters) Look here--here you are. This was how I found out.
(Selecting one) There--read that one.
LADY PEMBURY (taking it). Yes--that's John's writing. (She holds it
out to him.)
STRANGER. Aren't you going to read it?
LADY PEMBURY (shaking her head pathetically). He didn't write it to
_me_.
STRANGER. He didn't write it to _me_, if it comes to that.
LADY PEMBURY. You're her son--you have a right. I'm--nobody.
STRANGER (putting it back in his pocket). Oh well, please yourself.
LADY PEMBURY. Did Sir John provide for your mother?
STRANGER. Well, why shouldn't he? He was a rich man.
LADY PEMBURY. Not in those days. . . . But indeed--why shouldn't he? What
else could he do? I'm glad he did.
STRANGER. And now he's going to provide for his loving son. He's rich
enough for that in these days.
LADY PEMBURY. He's never seen you?
STRANGER. Never. The historic meeting of Father and Son will take
place this afternoon. (With a feeble attempt at what he thinks is the
aristocratic manner) Afraid the Governor will be in the deuce of a
rage. Been exceedin' my allowance--what? Make it a thousand, dear old
Gov.
LADY PEMBURY. Don't they call that blackmail?
STRANGER (violently).
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