RICHARD.
[Angrily.] Neither he nor you—nor she either! Not one of you!
BERTHA.
[With great bitterness.] She will! She will understand it! The diseased woman!
[She turns away and walks over to the little table on the right. Richard restrains a sudden gesture. A short pause.]
RICHARD.
[Gravely.] Bertha, take care of uttering words like that!
BERTHA.
[Turning, excitedly.] I don’t mean any harm! I feel for her more than you can because I am a woman. I do, sincerely. But what I say is true.
RICHARD.
Is it generous? Think.
BERTHA.
[Pointing towards the garden.] It is she who is not generous. Remember now what I say.
RICHARD.
What?
BERTHA.
[Comes nearer; in a calmer tone.] You have given that woman very much, Dick. And she may be worthy of it. And she may understand it all, too. I know she is that kind.
RICHARD.
Do you believe that?