Frances. That rather begs the question of your very existence, doesn't it?
He comes to a standstill.
Trebell. I know.
His voice shows her that meaning in her words and beyond it a threat. She goes to him, suddenly shaking with fear.
Frances. Henry, I didn't mean that.
Trebell. You think I've a mind to put an end to that same?
Frances. [Belittling her fright.] No ... for how unreasonable....
Trebell. In view of my promising past. I've stood for success, Fanny; I still stand for success. I could still do more outside the Cabinet than the rest of them, inside, will do. But suddenly I've a feeling the work would be barren. [His eyes shift beyond her; beyond the room.] What is it in your thoughts and actions which makes them bear fruit? Something that the roughest peasant may have in common with the best of us intellectual men ... something that a dog might have. It isn't successful cleverness.
She stands ... his trouble beyond her reach.
Frances. Come now ... you've done very well with your life.