BEATRICE—How _is_ Albert?
SYMPHOROSA—He is asleep.
BEATRICE—Fortunate man! And Alexandra?
SYMPHOROSA—She came down at six, and went riding. Alone. I hear you
talked with her last night.
BEATRICE—Yes. She came to my bedside at three o’clock. Oh, that I had
been spared that interview!
SYMPHOROSA—Was she disrespectful?
BEATRICE—No, she was repentant. She told me everything—everything that
happened.
SYMPHOROSA—The very last thing too?
BEATRICE—If only she hadn’t told me that!
SYMPHOROSA—What did you say to her?
BEATRICE—Not a word. I wasn’t able to. My whole body turned to ice.
SYMPHOROSA—What did she do?
BEATRICE—Kissed my hand and went out. I haven’t seen her since. [_A brief
pause._] That man—is he still here?