[Also in a low voice.] What is it?
A face that is staring at me.
[Turns involuntarily.] Where! [With a start.] Ah—!
[The SISTER OF MERCY's head is partly visible among the bushes
beside the descent to the left. Her eyes are immovably fixed
on IRENE.
[Rises and says softly.] We must part then. No, you must remain sitting. Do you hear? You must not go with me. [Bends over him and whispers.] Till we meet again—to-night—on the upland.
And you will come, Irene?
Yes, surely I will come. Wait for me here.
[Repeats dreamily.] Summer night on the upland. With you. With you. [His eyes meet hers.] Oh, Irene—that might have been our life.—And that we have forfeited—we two.
We see the irretrievable only when—
[Breaks off.