[Wincing.] Passionate love—parfaitement! [Looking at him.] But that feeling's over, Phil.
Philip.
Over?
Ottoline.
[Simply.] I shall always love you—always—always; but my passion exhausted itself last night. For months it has borne me along on a wave. It was that that swept me to the door of Titterton's office in Charles Street, Adelphi; it was strong enough to drive me to any length. But last night, in those dreadful small hours, the wave beat itself out, and threw me up on to the rocks, and left me shivering—naked—ashamed—[drawing a deep breath] ah, but in my right senses!
[She unbuttons her left-hand glove, rolls the hand of the glove over her wrist, and takes her engagement-ring from her finger.
Philip.
[Aghast.] Otto! Otto! What are you doing! What are you doing! [She lays the ring carefully upon the smoking-table and rises and walks away. He rises with her, following her.] To-morrow—when you've had some sleep—to-morrow——
Ottoline.
Never. Don't deceive yourself, Philip. [Going to the fireplace.] If anything was needed to strengthen my resolution, the announcement you've just made would supply it.