Percy:  (yawns)  I really am quite fatigued.  Perhaps you could visit tomorrow?  No--the day following tomorrow.  That would be much better.
Lucy:  I'm not leaving this room, Percival Blakeney, until you tell me what game you men are playing.
Percy:  I've no idea what you are speaking of, Goose.  Game?
Lucy:  Game.  Why was Andrew limping?
Percy:  Oh, that!  Poor fellow took a nasty turn while we were playing polo.  It was attended to immediately, of course.
Lucy:  (quietly)  Liar.
Percy:  You wound me!
Lucy:  (her anger building)  Not yet, but I shall if you don't speak the truth with your next breath, Percy.  You think to pull the wool over my eyes?  Hah.  This performance you play for your wife and the rest of your friends may be convincing to them, but I have known you all of my life.  There is not a façade you can adopt now that you have not taken on when we were younger.  You have pulled every trick, and played every role--and I have learned them well.
Percy:  (softly)  Perhaps you should return home.  The hour grows late.
Lucy:  I won't leave, damn you!  I'm tired of being deceived!  My brother disappears for weeks on end.  He's even taken to locking himself in his library at odd hours of the day and night!  You've turned into--a complete nitwit.
Percy:  (the facade disappears)  I'd be surprised if you weren't heard in London, Luce.  Now, hush. (pulls the windows to firmly)  There are some secrets which are best to remain as secrets.
Lucy:  (in a small voice)  We've never had a secret.  We used to tell each other every little thing.  Andrew.  You.  Myself.  But now . . .
Percy:  (sighs)  We've all grown up, Lucy.  There are some things which must remain unspoken.  For the good of--all involved.
Lucy:  What do you mean?  The good of all involved?  What have you dug yourself into that's so dangerous, Percy?
Percy:  (firmly)  It would be best if you didn’t know.
Lucy:  (explodes)  Don’t you dare!  There’s something going on, and I will know what it is!  Especially since you’ve dragged Andrew into it with you . . .
Percy:  (quietly, almost evasive)  Andrew came into it on his own.  They all did.  It was their own decision . . .
Lucy:  They?  There’s more?  (shakes head)  Okay, tell me.  What foolishness have you started this time?

(Percy starts to walk around the room, aimlessly)

Lucy:  Are you going to come to the point any time tonight, Percy?  I would like to make it home sometime before next week . . .
Percy:  France has become a highly precarious place to be in over the last few months.
Lucy:  This is your point?  Or are we still wandering through the fog in your brain?  Come on, Percy!
Percy:  (looking directly at her)  There should always be someone willing, in hopeless times, to offer the condemned a measure of hope.  And for many, these are the most hopeless times they will ever see.
Lucy:  (drily) Last I heard, there was already someone offering them hope.  A little late for that, I should think--and we still haven’t heard your point.

(Percy remains silent, looking at her)

Lucy:  (puzzled)  Percy?  Your point . . .
Percy:  Someone had to do it, Luce.  If not me, then someone else.
Lucy:  (jaw drops) You mean . . . you’re telling me that . . .
Percy:  It was small at first, just me and whoever I could bribe sufficiently to help . . . then Andrew found out, and started to help . . . it just went from there . . .
Lucy:  (stammers)  You're . . . the . . . you're . . . you're--
Percy:  (grins a bit) . . . The Scarlet Pimpernel?