If you don't let me go, I'll scream for help.

JULIA (reproachfully). Leonard! (He breaks away from her.) Oh, how can
you be so rough with me, dear. Did you get my letter?

CHARTERIS. Burnt it--(she turns away, struck to the heart, and buries
her face in her hands)--along with hers.

JULIA (quickly turning again). Hers! Has she written to you?

CHARTERIS. Yes, to break off with me on your account.

JULIA (her eyes gleaming). Ah!

CHARTERIS. You are pleased. Wretch! Now you have lost the last scrap
of my regard. (He turns to go, but is stopped by the return of Sylvia.
Julia turns away and stands pretending to read a paper which she picks
up from the table.)

SYLVIA (offhandedly). Hallo, Charteris: how are you getting on? (She
takes his arm familiarly and walks down the room with him.) Have you
seen Grace Tranfield this morning? (Julia drops the paper and comes a
step nearer to listen.) You generally know where she is to be found.

CHARTERIS. I shall never know any more, Sylvia. She's quarrelled with
me.

SYLVIA. Sylvia! How often am I to tell you that I am not Sylvia at the
club?