ALICE, inspired, ‘My letters?’
AMY. ‘Of course. He behaved at first as they all do—pretended that he did not know what I was talking about. At that moment, a visitor; I knew at once that it must be the husband; it always is, it was; I hid. Again a visitor. I knew it must be you, it was; oh, the agony to me in there. I was wondering when he would begin to suspect, for I knew the time would come, and I stood ready to emerge and sacrifice myself to save you.’
ALICE. ‘As you have done, Amy?’
AMY. ‘As I have done.’
Once more the arms go round her.
‘I want none of that.’
ALICE. ‘Forgive me.’ A thought comes to Alice that enthralls her. ‘Steve! Does he know what you think—about me?’
AMY. ‘I had to be open with him.’
ALICE. ‘And Steve believes it? He thinks that I—I—Alice Grey—oh, ecstasy!’
AMY. ‘You need not pretend.’