Con. Oh no! I suppose it can't be. Only I don't see why. Oh, Arthur, where should I be but for you! I saw the old place yesterday. How dreadful and yet how dear it was!
Ger. Who took you there?
Con. Nobody. I went alone.
Ger. It was hardly safe.—I don't like your going out alone, Constance.
Con. Why, Arthur! I used to know every court and alley about Shoreditch better than I know Berkeley Square now!
Ger. But what made you go there?
Con. I went to find a dressmaker who has been working for my aunt, and lost my way. And—would you believe it?—I was actually frightened!
Ger. No wonder! There are rough people about there.
Con. I never used to think them rough when I lived among them with my father and mother. There must be just as good people there as anywhere else. Yet I could not help shuddering at the thought of living there again!—How strange it made me feel! You have been my angel, Arthur. What would have become of me if you hadn't taken me, I dare not think.
Ger. I have had my reward, Constance: you are happy.