Kellinghausen.
And yet----
Beata.
Wait, please! I have one word more to say, I have staked everything and lost--it's all over for us, all three of us. If I had spoken years ago, the same thing would have happened. You told me just now that I had made you happy. Well, that is what my lie has done. It has made you happy for fifteen years. Blame me for it--but don't forget it----
Kellinghausen.
And God--and retribution? Do you never think of such things? No repentance--no remorse? Nothing? Nothing?
Richard.
Spare her, Michael. Let me answer for her. (Kellinghausen advances toward him with clenched fist.)
Beata.
You have questioned me, Michael; let me question you. Must every natural instinct end in remorse and repentance? Sin? I am not conscious of sinning. I did the best that it was in me to do. I simply refused to be crushed by your social laws. I asserted my right to live; my right to self-preservation. Perhaps it was another way of suicide--that's no matter. You know what my life has been--how I've had to buy it, hour by hour and drop by drop, at the nearest chemist's--well, wretched as it is, I've loved it too dearly to disown it now! Yes, I've loved it--I've loved everything--everything around me--you too, Michael--ah, don't laugh--yes, you too--even if I've--ah-- (Her breath comes in long gasps and she reels and clutches a chair, closing her eyes as she leans against it. Then she opens them again.) Which one of you will--help me to the door? (Richard makes a movement, and then draws back.)