GERTRUDE. [Turning to go.] God bless you.
AGNES. Gertrude! [With altered manner.] You—you have the trick of making me lonely also. [Going to GERTRUDE, taking her hands and fondling them.] I'm tired of talking to the walls! And your blood is warm to me! Shall I tell you, or not—or not?
GERTRUDE. Do tell me.
AGNES. There is a man here, in Venice, who is torturing me—flaying me alive.
GERTRUDE. Torturing you?
AGNES. He came here about a week ago; he is trying to separate us.
GERTRUDE. You and Mr. Cleeve?
AGNES. Yes.
GERTRUDE. You are afraid he will succeed?
AGNES. Succeed! What nonsense you talk!