Dick. So he did: I forgot that. But then, he put me out of my misery, so we'll forgive him.
Agnes. You may, but I, never. I had begun to like your friend. (Tom appears at window.) I thought him good and noble: I find him base and treacherous. I hate this Tom Carew. (Crosses to L.)
Tom (aside). If you don't, you're not the woman I thought you.
Dick. Oh! Tom's a good fellow, only just now he's in love.
(Enter Tom, door C.)
Tom (to Agnes). If he had no other excuse than that, he would be what you just now styled him,—base and treacherous.
Agnes. Have you not proved yourself so, betrayed your friend, deceived me?
Tom. Deceived you?
Agnes. Did you not promise to seek him I sought, to bring him to me? How have you kept your word? By betraying him to the man from whom I sought to save him. Is this a token of your boasted regard for mothers, wives, and sisters?
Tom. Hear me before you condemn. In these wild lands is a tender flower, gladdening the hearts of rough miners by its fragrance and beauty. From its coming it has been fondly cherished and tenderly cared for. Yesterday it was trampled in the dust by one who knew the fearful wrong he was committing.