'My affairs are my own secret, Mr. Westwick. I have made you
a proposal--and you have not answered me yet. Don't say No,
without thinking first. Remember what a life mine has been.
I have seen more of the world than most people, playwrights included.
I have had strange adventures; I have heard remarkable stories;
I have observed; I have remembered. Are there no materials, here in
my head, for writing a play--if the opportunity is granted to me?'
She waited a moment, and suddenly repeated her strange question
about Agnes.
'When is Miss Lockwood expected to be in Venice?'
'What has that to do with your new play, Countess?'
The Countess appeared to feel some difficulty in giving that question
its fit reply. She mixed another tumbler full of maraschino punch,
and drank one good half of it before she spoke again.
'It has everything to do with my new play,' was all she said.
'Answer me.' Francis answered her.
'Miss Lockwood may be here in a week. Or, for all I know
to the contrary, sooner than that.'
'Very well. If I am a living woman and a free woman in a week's time--
or if I am in possession of my senses in a week's time (don't interrupt me;
I know what I am talking about)--I shall have a sketch or outline
of my play ready, as a specimen of what I can do.
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