I’m sorry if I disappoint you. Please forgive me and let me go.
Parbury.
But really, Miss Woodward, I must beg for some sort of explanation. Last night you acknowledged you were perfectly satisfied. You wished to remain.
Miss Woodward.
You have unconsciously shown me to-day that I was wrong.
Parbury.
Indeed! I would be glad to know how. Oh, how weary one gets of mysteries! [Miss Woodward’s head droops lower.] [He walks the stage, then looks at Miss Woodward and pauses; he goes to her and speaks more gently.] I beg your pardon, I fear I spoke impatiently. Do understand that I only wish for your own good. I admit in our relations I’ve hitherto been rather selfish. I’m afraid writing men are prone to be so. I’ve allowed you to study my wishes and feelings and nerves all the time, without giving any thought to yours. I’ll try to be more considerate in the future if you’ll only regard me as an elder brother and tell me what is troubling you now.
Miss Woodward.
I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m ashamed that you should worry about me at all.
Parbury.