RICHARD.
(surprised). You?
JUDITH.
Yes, I. Am I not to care at all?
RICHARD.
(gaily and bluntly). Not a scrap. Oh, you expressed your feelings towards me very frankly yesterday. What happened may have softened you for the moment; but believe me, Mrs. Anderson, you don’t like a bone in my skin or a hair on my head. I shall be as good a riddance at 12 today as I should have been at 12 yesterday.
JUDITH.
(her voice trembling). What can I do to show you that you are mistaken?
RICHARD.
Don’t trouble. I’ll give you credit for liking me a little better than you did. All I say is that my death will not break your heart.
JUDITH.
(almost in a whisper). How do you know? (She puts her hands on his shoulders and looks intently at him.)
RICHARD.
(amazed—divining the truth). Mrs. Anderson!!! (The bell of the town clock strikes the quarter. He collects himself, and removes her hands, saying rather coldly) Excuse me: they will be here for me presently. It is too late.
JUDITH.
It is not too late. Call me as witness: they will never kill you when they know how heroically you have acted.
RICHARD.
(with some scorn). Indeed! But if I don’t go through with it, where will the heroism be? I shall simply have tricked them; and they’ll hang me for that like a dog. Serve me right too!
JUDITH.
(wildly). Oh, I believe you WANT to die.