[She shudders and covers her eyes.]
DAVID
There lies my failure—to have brought it to your eyes, instead of blotting it from my own.
VERA
No man could have blotted it out.
DAVID
Yes—by faith in the Crucible. From the blood of battlefields spring daisies and buttercups. In the divine chemistry the very garbage turns to roses. But in the supreme moment my faith was found wanting. You came to me—and I thrust you away.
VERA
I ought not to have come to you.... I ought not to have come to you to-day. We must not meet again.
DAVID