Rita.
[Vehemently.] Yes, I do. As he comes between you and me, I call him so. For the book—the book was not a living being, as the child is. [With increasing impetuosity.] But I won’t endure it, Alfred! I will not endure it—I tell you so plainly!
Allmers.
[Looks steadily at her, and says in a low voice.] I am often almost afraid of you, Rita.
Rita.
[Gloomily.] I am often afraid of myself. And for that very reason you must not awake the evil in me.
Allmers.
Why, good Heavens, do I do that?
Rita.
Yes, you do—when you tear to shreds the holiest bonds between us.