Adri. Proceed, sir!
Mor. It is about my son. [Adrienne braces herself.] Until your advent into our family all was peace and sunshine; but now all is mystery and clouds. And you, madam, are the cause of this condition of affairs. [Adrienne presses her hand to her heart.] I speak in behalf of my son. Since his marriage to you I have noted a change in him. There is something weighing heavily on his mind.
Adri. And has he sent you to plead his cause?
Mor. No, madam! He has defended you in every particular; he has tried to hide the true state of affairs. His sense of honor is so high that he would not listen to a word against your action. His vow at the altar is sacred to him; he would suffer anything without a murmur, and he will ever defend his wife from the sneers of the world.
Adri. Will you enlighten me, sir, as to the nature of my offense?
Mor. You have destroyed the happiness of my son’s life. He cannot hide the disappointment of his honest heart from the searching gaze of a father.
Adri. Sir! It is best that we understand each other. I decline further to listen to your upbraidings. You have no right to question my actions. I forbid you ever to broach this subject again. The die is cast. I know my duty as a wife; and to my husband, and to him alone, will I hold myself accountable for my actions. [Exit majestically L. 2 E. Morris looks after her.]
Enter Anastasia, R. 2 E.
Anas. Brother Morris, I’ll not put up with it any longer. Things are getting to be in a pretty strait when a person of my standing must submit to such snubbing—yes, brother, I repeat, snubbing.
Mor. Don’t bother me! [Exit into cottage.]