ROBERT.
When?
BERTHA.
The night we landed I felt very tired and dirty. [Shaking her head.] I did not see it in you that night.
ROBERT.
[Smiling.] Tell me what did you see that night—your very first impression.
BERTHA.
[Knitting her brows.] You were standing with your back to the gangway, talking to two ladies.
ROBERT.
To two plain middleaged ladies, yes.
BERTHA.
I recognized you at once. And I saw that you had got fat.
ROBERT.
[Takes her hand.] And this poor fat Robert—do you dislike him then so much? Do you disbelieve all he says?
BERTHA.
I think men speak like that to all women whom they like or admire. What do you want me to believe?
ROBERT.
All men, Bertha?
BERTHA.
[With sudden sadness.] I think so.