John.
[Indignantly.] Why do you come here—after all our struggles and failures, after the injury you’ve endeavoured to do me! Why do you torture me, and insult me, by trying to repeat the old heart-breaking scenes?
[He throws himself into a chair, distractedly. There is a pause; then she slowly goes to a chair, drags it towards him, and sits beside him.
Olive.
[Panting.] Torture you? Oh! oh, I suffer too! [Rocking herself to and fro.] Well, there can be no punishment for jealous women in another world; we are damned in this.
John.
[In a muffled voice, with his head on his hands.] And the fire has burnt out in you, you tell me!
Olive.
I suppose the cinders still retain a little heat, dear.
John.