Helen
[with growing scorn]
Oh! You are all alike. You pile work upon me until I nearly drop, you play upon my interest, my sympathy—you get all you can out of me—my youth, my strength, my best! And then, just as I, too, have a chance to arrive in my profession, you, of all men, throw me over! I hate men. I hate you!
Ernest
And I love you!
[They stare at each other in silence, the moonlight flooding Helen's face, the music coming clear.
Helen
[in an awed whisper, stepping back slowly]
I've done it! I've done it! I knew I'd do it!
Ernest