Oberville. Never mind! (He rises and walks away; then comes back and stands in front of her.) What a fool I was to give you up!
Isabel. Oh, don’t say that! I’ve lived on it!
Oberville. On my letting you go?
Isabel. On your letting everything go—but the right.
Oberville. Oh, hang the right! What is truth? We had the right to be happy!
Isabel (with rising emotion). I used to think so sometimes.
Oberville. Did you? Triple fool that I was!
Isabel. But you showed me—
Oberville. Why, good God, we belonged to each other—and I let you go! It’s fabulous. I’ve fought for things since that weren’t worth a crooked sixpence; fought as well as other men. And you—you—I lost you because I couldn’t face a scene! Hang it, suppose there’d been a dozen scenes—I might have survived them. Men have been known to. They’re not necessarily fatal.
Isabel. A scene?