Amy. Not to Ireland ... I haven't seen Justin for a year.
Trebell. All the easier for you not to see him for another year.
Amy. That wasn't what you meant.
Trebell. It wasn't ... but never mind.
They are silent for a moment ... miles apart ... Then she speaks dully.
Amy. We do hate each other ... don't we!
Trebell. Nonsense. Let's think of what matters.
Amy. [Aimlessly.] I went to a man at Dover ... picked him out of the directory ... didn't give my own name ... pretended I was off abroad. He was a kind old thing ... said it was all most satisfactory. Oh, my God!
Trebell. [He goes to bend over her kindly.] Yes, you've had a torturing month or two. That's been wrong, I'm sorry.
Amy. Even now I have to keep telling myself that it's so ... otherwise I couldn't understand it. Any more than one really believes one will ever die ... one doesn't believe that, you know.