MORELL. Well—er—(He hesitates, unable to find the long explanation which he supposed to be available.)
CANDIDA. Well?
MORELL (baldly). Eugene declares that you are in love with him.
MARCHBANKS (frantically). No, no, no, no, never. I did not, Mrs. Morell: it's not true. I said I loved you, and that he didn't. I said that I understood you, and that he couldn't. And it was not after what passed there before the fire that I spoke: it was not, on my word. It was this morning.
CANDIDA (enlightened). This morning!
MARCHBANKS. Yes. (He looks at her, pleading for credence, and then adds, simply) That was what was the matter with my collar.
CANDIDA (after a pause; for she does not take in his meaning at once). His collar! (She turns to Morell, shocked.) Oh, James: did you—(she stops)?
MORELL (ashamed). You know, Candida, that I have a temper to struggle with. And he said (shuddering) that you despised me in your heart.
CANDIDA (turning quickly on Eugene). Did you say that?
MARCHBANKS (terrified). No!