Ida.
After all, it is not a thing to admire. You are overwrought and exhausted.
William (in sharp, unyielding tones).
Leave me in peace, can’t you? What do you understand of all that.—(Shocked at himself, adds) Ah, love! You must forgive me. You had better leave me now—I can not bear to wound you. And in this mood, as I feel now, I can’t answer for myself.
[Ida kisses him silently on the mouth, then goes into the next room. William looks after her, stands still, shows fright and astonishment in his face, and strikes his forehead, like one who has detected himself on the track of an evil thought. Meantime, Robert has come downstairs. Robert, his hat in his right hand, overcoat and rug over his arm, rug straps in his left hand, goes to the table and lays his things down on it.
William (after he has watched him a moment or two).
Where are you going?
Robert.
Away.