George.
Marie, my love! [Strokes her hair affectionally, then moves away.] No, no, we must be strong! Only a few minutes ago, Gertrude came softly down those stairs; if she should come again--my God----!
Marie.
What did she want?
George.
You can imagine----
Marie.
The poor thing! But you will love her?
George.
As well as possible! But then I must not think of you.