Dr. Thorne (takes a few steps nearer her). And I yours ... if I have wronged you.
Cleo (softly). You feel so sure of her, then? Helen is so attractive! These spiritual women always are—up to a certain point.... Life is a long wait, brutally tedious. You know as well as I do how many—Now, there is Dr. Gazell. A very consolable widower.
Dr. Thorne (proudly). Oh, that was a blunt stroke. Gazell? If Gazell were a dog by which my wife might track her way to me through the mystery of death ... she might have some use for him ... hardly otherwise. I gave you credit for some wit, Cleo.
Cleo. I own the illustration was defective. But there are a plenty better. There are gentler men than you. For my part, I don’t mind your attacks of the devil. I never did. I’d take your cruelty to have your tenderness—any day. But Mrs. Thorne is sensitive to kindness. She likes the even disposition, the patient, model man. After all, there are a good many of them.
Dr. Thorne (lifting his head). I am not afraid.
Cleo (turning away). And you? She is a young woman. It may be years....
Dr. Thorne (coldly). You will have to excuse me. I left some one.... I may be missed. I have ties which even you would respect, Madam. I must return whence I came. (He moves away.)
(Cleo hides her face in her hands; is heard to weep.)
Dr. Thorne (steps back). Do you want my pity?
Cleo (murmurs). Alone—in a desert world—we two—at last. Oh, you don’t know the alphabet of happiness! You have everything to learn ... from me. And we shall never be like this again!