RICHARD.
Yet that separated me from you. I was a third person, I felt. Your names were always spoken together, Robert and Beatrice, as long as I can remember. It seemed to me, to everyone...
BEATRICE.
We are first cousins. It is not strange that we were often together.
RICHARD.
He told me of your secret engagement with him. He had no secrets from me; I suppose you know that.
BEATRICE.
[Uneasily.] What happened—between us—is so long ago. I was a child.
RICHARD.
[Smiles maliciously.] A child? Are you sure? It was in the garden of his mother’s house. No? [He points towards the garden.] Over there. You plighted your troth, as they say, with a kiss. And you gave him your garter. Is it allowed to mention that?
BEATRICE.
[With some reserve.] If you think it worthy of mention.
RICHARD.
I think you have not forgotten it. [Clasping his hands quietly.] I do not understand it. I thought, too, that after I had gone... Did my going make you suffer?
BEATRICE.
I always knew you would go some day. I did not suffer; only I was changed.
RICHARD.
Towards him?
BEATRICE.
Everything was changed. His life, his mind, even, seemed to change after that.