Stonor. What do you mean?
Miss L. Give me back what you took from me: my old faith. Give me that.
Stonor. Oh, if you mean to make phrases—— (A gesture of scant patience.)
Miss L. (going closer). Or give me back mere kindness—or even tolerance. Oh, I don't mean your tolerance! Give me back the power to think fairly of my brothers—not as mockers—thieves.
Stonor. I have not mocked you. And I have asked you——
Miss L. Something you knew I should refuse! Or (her eyes blaze) did you dare to be afraid I wouldn't?
Stonor. I suppose, if we set our teeth, we could——
Miss L. I couldn't—not even if I set my teeth. And you wouldn't dream of asking me, if you thought there was the smallest chance.
Stonor. I can do no more than make you an offer of such reparation as is in my power. If you don't accept it—— (He turns with an air of "That's done.")
Miss L. Accept it? No!... Go away and live in debt! Pay and pay and pay—and find yourself still in debt!—for a thing you'll never be able to give me back. (Lower.) And when you come to die, say to yourself, "I paid all creditors but one."