All faded the roses red,
And one who loves me is not here
And one that I love is dead.”
(A long pause. Then Strong goes to her and lifts her from the piano-stool. He puts one arm around her very tenderly and pushes her head back so he can look into her eyes. She shuts them, but is passive).
Strong (Gently): Little girl, little girl, don’t you know that suggestions—suggestions—like those you are sending yourself constantly—are wicked things? You, who are so gentle, so loving, so warm—(Breaks off and crushes her to him. He kisses her many times. She does not resist, but in the midst of his caresses she breaks suddenly into convulsive laughter. He tries to hush the terrible sound with his mouth; then brokenly) Little girl—don’t laugh—like that.
Rachel (Interrupted throughout by her laughter): I have to.—God is laughing.—We’re his puppets.—He pulls the wires,—and we’re so funny to Him.—I’m laughing too—because I can hear—my little children—weeping. They come to me generally while I’m asleep,—but I can hear them now.—They’ve begged me—do you understand?—begged me—not to bring them here;—and I’ve promised them—not to.—I’ve promised. I can’t stand the sound of their crying.—I have to laugh—Oh! John! laugh!—laugh too!—I can’t drown their weeping.
(Strong picks her up bodily and carries her to the armchair).
Strong (Harshly): Now, stop that!
Rachel (In sheer surprise): W-h-a-t?
Strong (Still harshly): Stop that!—You’ve lost your self-control.—find yourself again!