Gertrude.
That's just it! why should he? Oh, if I only knew--if I was only
certain he loved me--and then, another thing--I don't know if I should
tell you--I have a growing fear, some other girl will take him away
from me.
Marie.
[_With forced laugh_.] Away from you, dear? how could that be possible?
Gertrude.
Oh yes, you may laugh; but at times, when he looks at me, I see a
strange look come in his eyes. Half affection--half pity--and I don't
want to be pitied! Why should he? Am I not happy?
Marie.
[_Caressing her_.] Yes, dear; you ought to be very, very happy.
Gertrude.
But I cannot rid myself of the fear, perhaps he really loves another
and is only taking compassion on me! Oh, if I only knew----
Marie.