STRANGWAY. Not! Then, why—? Beatrice! You said, when you were right away—I've waited——
BEATRICE. I know. It's cruel—it's horrible. But I told you not to hope, Michael. I've done my best. All these months at Mentone, I've been wondering why I ever let you marry me—when that feeling wasn't dead!
STRANGWAY. You can't have come back just to leave me again?
BEATRICE. When you let me go out there with mother I thought—I did think I would be able; and I had begun—and then—spring came!
STRANGWAY. Spring came here too! Never so—aching! Beatrice, can't you?
BEATRICE. I've something to say.
STRANGWAY. No! No! No!
BEATRICE. You see—I've—fallen.
STRANGWAY. Ah! [In a twice sharpened by pain] Why, in the name of mercy, come here to tell me that? Was he out there, then?
BEATRICE. I came straight back to him.