GERTRUDE. He has right on his side, then?
AGNES. If you choose to think so.
GERTRUDE. Supposing he does succeed in taking Mr. Cleeve away from you?
AGNES. [Staring at GERTRUDE.] What, now, do you mean?
GERTRUDE. Yes.
[There is a brief pause; then AGNES walks across the room, wiping her
brow with her handkerchief.]
AGNES. I tell you, that idea's--preposterous.
GERTRUDE. Oh, I can't understand you.
AGNES. You'll respect my confidence?
GERTRUDE. Agnes!
AGNES. [Sitting.] Well, I fancy this man's presence here has simply
started me thinking of a time--oh, it may never come!--a time when I
may cease to be--necessary to Mr. Cleeve. Do you understand?
GERTRUDE. I remember what you told me of your being prepared to grant
each other freedom if--
AGNES. Yes, yes; and for the past few days this idea has filled me with
a fear of the most humiliating kind.
GERTRUDE. What fear?
AGNES. The fear lest, after all my beliefs and protestations, I should
eventually find myself loving Lucas in the helpless, common way of
women--
GERTRUDE. [Under her breath.] I see.
AGNES. The dread that the moment may arrive some day when should it be
required of me, I shan't feel myself able to give him up easily. [Her
head drooping, uttering a low moan.] Oh!--
[LUCAS, dressed for going out, enters, carrying AGNES'S copy of his
manuscript, rolled and addressed for the post. AGNES rises.]
AGNES. [To LUCAS.] Mrs. Thorpe starts for home tomorrow; she has called
to say good-bye.
LUCAS. [To GERTRUDE.] It is very kind. Is your brother quite well?
GERTRUDE. [Embarrassed.] Thanks: quite.
LUCAS. [Smiling.] I believe I have added to his experience of the
obscure corners of Venice during the past week.
GERTRUDE. I--I don't--Why?
LUCAS. By so frequently putting him to the inconvenience of avoiding
me.