ANDERSON.
(goodhumoredly cutting her short). Pooh! Richard said! He said what he thought would frighten you and frighten me, my dear. He said what perhaps (God forgive him!) he would like to believe. It’s a terrible thing to think of what death must mean for a man like that. I felt that I must warn him. I left a message for him.
JUDITH.
(querulously). What message?
ANDERSON.
Only that I should be glad to see him for a moment on a matter of importance to himself; and that if he would look in here when he was passing he would be welcome.
JUDITH.
(aghast). You asked that man to come here!
ANDERSON.
I did.
JUDITH.
(sinking on the seat and clasping her hands). I hope he won’t come! Oh, I pray that he may not come!
ANDERSON.
Why? Don’t you want him to be warned?
JUDITH.
He must know his danger. Oh, Tony, is it wrong to hate a blasphemer and a villain? I do hate him! I can’t get him out of my mind: I know he will bring harm with him. He insulted you: he insulted me: he insulted his mother.
ANDERSON.
(quaintly). Well, dear, let’s forgive him; and then it won’t matter.
JUDITH.
Oh, I know it’s wrong to hate anybody; but—