[He seats himself on a stone beside the brook. She stands behind
him, leaning against the wall of rock.
[After a pause.] Why do you sit there turning your eyes away from me?
[Softly, shaking his head.] I dare not—I dare not look at you.
Why dare you not look at me any more?
You have a shadow that tortures me. And I have the crushing weight of my conscience.
[With a glad cry of deliverance.] At last!
[Springs up.] Irene—what is it!
[Motioning him off.] Keep still, still, still! [Draws a deep breath and says, as though relieved of a burden.] There! Now they let me go. For this time.—Now we can sit down and talk as we used to—when I was alive.
Oh, if only we could talk as we used to.
Sit there, where you were sitting. I will sit here beside you.