Anne [Aside.] He’s not been out! This is what men come to after a cruise at sea—they get sunburnt with love. Those foreign donnas teach them to make fire-places of their hearts, and chimney-pots of their mouths. [Aloud.] What are you doing down there? [Aside.] As if he was stretched out to dry. [Kyrle puts down pipe outside.
Enter Kyrle through window, R., in flat.
Kyrle [R. C.] I have been watching Hardress coming over from Divil’s Island in his boat—the wind was dead against him.
Anne [L. C.] It was fair for going to Divil’s Island last night, I believe.
Kyrle Was it?
Anne You were up late, I think?
Kyrle I was. I watched by my window for hours, thinking of her I loved—slumber overtook me, and I dreamed of a happiness I never can hope for.
Anne Look me straight in the face.
Kyrle Oh! if some fairy could strike us into stone now—and leave us looking forever into each other’s faces, like the blue lake below and the sky above it!
Anne Kyrle Daly! What would you say to a man who had two loves, one to whom he escaped at night, and the other to whom he devoted himself during the day—what would you say?