AGNES. Not a flutter. [Watching her open hand.] My hand is absolutely steady. [He takes her hand and kisses it upon the palm.] Ah!—
LUCAS. [Looking at her hand.] No, it is shaking.
AGNES. Yes, when you—when you—oh, Lucas!—[She sinks into a chair, turning her back upon him, and covering her face with her hands; her shoulders heaving.]
LUCAS. [Going to her.] Agnes dear!
AGNES. [Taking out her handkerchief.] Let me—let me—
LUCAS. [Bending over her.] I've never seen you—
AGNES. No, I've never been a crying woman. But some great change has befallen me, I believe. What is it? That swoon—it wasn't mere faintness, giddiness; it was this change coming over me!
LUCAS. You are not unhappy?
AGNES. [Wiping her eyes.] No, I—I don't think I am. Isn't that strange?
LUCAS. My dearest, I'm happy to hear you say that, for you've made me very happy.