He considers how best to make a last effort to bring her to her senses. He sits by her.
trebell. Amy . . if you were my wife—
amy. [Unresponsive to him now.] I was Justin's wife, and I went away from him sooner than bear him children. Had I the right to choose or had I not?
trebell. [Taking another path.] Shall I tell you something I believe? If we were left to choose, we should stand for ever deciding whether to start with the right foot or the left. We blunder into the best things in life. Then comes the test . . have we faith enough to go on . . to go through with the unknown thing?
amy. [So bored by these metaphysics.] Faith in what?
trebell. Our vitality. I don't give a fig for beauty, happiness, or brains. All I ask of myself is . . can I pay Fate on demand?
amy. Yes . . in imagination. But I've got physical facts to face.
But he has her attention now and pursues the advantage.
trebell. Very well then . . let the meaning of them go. Look forward simply to a troublesome illness. In a little while you can go abroad quietly and wait patiently. We're not fools and we needn't find fools to trust in. Then come back to England . . .