And if you should go to ruin out there?
Marie.
Do not fear. I am the calamity child, the foundling. My hands are hard and callous--see, see! Just like my heart is, now. I will work and work, and toil, until I fall exhausted--then I will sleep and rest, until it is time for work again; and thus I will perhaps maintain a miserable existence.
George.
You say you are a calamity child! Well, so am I. But our accounts do not harmonize. You are going out into the world and misery, and it was I who drove you to it. Even did I not love you as I do, that thought would follow me forever and embitter my entire life. But, be it so. We are both children of misery! Therefore let us grit our teeth, shake each other by the hand--and say farewell!
Marie.
[Softly.] Good-bye, Georgie dear--and--don't be afraid--he is not yet coming--and forgive me--do you hear? From to-day--you understand? Did I not love you as much as I do, this would not have been quite so hard; but there--there--'tis all right now--I know; I can never be entirely poor now; for once, at least, the fires of St. John have burned for me--once--just once----
George.
Marie----