H. Any more than cherishing illusions is yours. But, pray, go on with your revelations. I must improve the unexpected pleasure of finding you alone.
E. (a little embarrassed). Whom, then, did you expect to find here? (Aside.) He cannot have known that Dr. Tennant is coming. (Aloud.) Who would interfere, did you think, with the personal welcome you so desired?
H. (aside). I was getting on so well. (Lightly.) Oh, party calls, you know, and——
E. (dryly). You will find that customs have not changed so much in four years. It is still unusual to pay party calls in advance.
H. (aside). That was a brilliant way to recoup my falling fortunes! (Boldly.) Is this an indirect way of blaming me for coming this afternoon? (Rising.) I suppose it was unwise. (Aside.) I should rather think it was. (Aloud.) I will go now—Esther.
E. (quickly). You know, Harold, I did not mean anything so rude. Do not go—unless you must.
H. (aside). I must—theoretically. But I sha’nt—not after that “Harold.” If I hadn’t prided myself for years on its being inalienable property, I should say I was losing my head. (Aloud.) Will you tell me more of your four years?
E. (seriously). Yes. I have grown wise. I have grown hard—a little.
H. (softly). You were hard before—a little.
E. Are they not the same—wisdom and hardness? I have learned to believe that they are.