[Has gently forced HELEN down upon the sofa and now sits, pressed close, beside her. In his consolations the sensual element betrays itself more and more strongly.] Nellie! Look at me; let those things be. Let me be your consolation, I needn't talk to you about your sister. [He embraces her more firmly. Passionately and feelingly.] Oh, if she were what you are!… But as it is … tell me: what can she be to me? Did you ever hear of a man, Nellie, of a cultured man whose wife—[he almost whispers]—is a prey to such an unhappy passion? One is afraid to utter it aloud: a woman—and—brandy … Now, do you think I am any happier?… Think of my little Freddie! Well, am I, when all's said, any better off than you are?… [With increasing passion.] And so, you see, fate has done us one kindness anyhow. It has brought us together. And we belong together. Our equal sorrows have predestined us to be friends. Isn't it so, Nellie?
[He puts his arms wholly around her. She permits it but with an expression which shows that she forces herself to mere endurance. She has grown quite silent and seems, with quivering tension of soul, to be awaiting some certainty, some consummation that is inevitably approaching.
HOFFMANN
[Tenderly.] You should consent to my plan; you should leave this house and live with us. The baby that is coming needs a mother. Come and be a mother to it; otherwise—[passionately moved and sentimentally]—it will have no mother. And then: bring a little, oh, only a very little brightness into my life! Do that! Oh, do that!
[He is about to lean his head upon her breast. She jumps up, indignant. In her expression are revealed contempt, surprise, loathing and hatred.
HELEN
Oh, but you are, you are … Now I know you thoroughly! Oh, I've felt it dimly before. But now I am certain.
HOFFMANN
[Surprised, put out of countenance.] What? Helen … you're unique—really.