ROBERT.
In that, yes.
BERTHA.
A little—mad?
ROBERT.
[Comes closer.] No. He is not. Perhaps we are. Why, do you...?
BERTHA.
[Laughs.] I ask you because you are intelligent.
ROBERT.
You must not go away. I will not let you.
BERTHA.
[Looks full at him.] You?
ROBERT.
Those eyes must not go away. [He takes her hands.] May I kiss your eyes?
BERTHA.
Do so.
[He kisses her eyes and then passes his hand over her hair.]
ROBERT.
Little Bertha!