Bess. Suppose, suppose anything you like. (Cross to door L.). I’m going to change my dress.
May. And you withhold from me your confidence, Bess, Bess, this is not right.
Bess. May, don’t lecture me. Do let me enjoy myself, ’twill be time to warn when the grub brother turns into the butterfly lover. (Aside.) She dares to doubt my love for Marcus. I’ll plague her well for that.
(Exit door L.)
May (rising). ’Tis as I feared, she is learning to love this man; this tramp, who, in some unaccountable manner, fascinates the whole household. Roy delights in his company. Bess is happy at his side; even Nancy, the man hater, almost worships him, while I feel magnetized by his presence; and yet he robs me of my husband’s society. But he must not win my Bess, there’s too much at stake, an accident might rouse the slumbering curse of his former life, and then what a fate would be hers. Oh, no, she must be saved from that, though I make an enemy of my husband’s comrade. But how? (Sits R. of table.) How?
(Enter Simon C.)
Simon. I beg your pardon.
May. Well what is it; anything the matter in the garden?
Simon. No, everything is flourishing there: I’ve weeded out all that’s unsightly and unwholesome; but there’s something wrong here in the house.
May. In the house,——what do you mean?