The King. Forgive me—but don't you think it was just the want of an object in his life that led your father to push his theories too far?—an object outside himself, I mean?
Clara. Perhaps. If my mother had lived—. (Stops.)
The King.—he might have taken it differently; don't you think so?
Clara. I have sometimes thought so. (A pause.)
The King. How still it is! Not a sound!
Clara. Yes, there is the fountain.
The King. That is true; but one ends by hardly hearing a continuous sound like that.
Clara. There is a tremulousness in that too. (Looks round her.)
The King. What are you looking for?
Clara. It is time to look for the Baroness.