Mrs. Farrant. He had a right to. We must remember that.
Frances. You say that easily of my brother ... you wouldn't say it of your husband.
They are apart by this, Julia Farrant goes to her gently.
Mrs. Farrant. Fanny ... will it leave you so very lonely?
Frances. Yes ... lonelier than you can ever be. You have children. I'm just beginning to realise....
Mrs. Farrant. [Leading her from the mere selfishness of sorrow.] There's loneliness of the spirit, too.
Frances. Ah, but once you've tasted the common joys of life ... once you've proved all your rights as a man or a woman....
Mrs. Farrant. Then there are subtler things to miss. As well be alone like you, or dead like him, without them ... I sometimes think.
Frances. [Responsive, lifted from egoism, reading her friend's mind.] You demand much.
Mrs. Farrant. I wish that he had demanded much of any woman.