Mrs. Tremaine.
Sick of what?
Denham.
Of myself, of art, of life.
Mrs. Tremaine.
That was foolish. I am glad if I have reconciled you to existence.
Denham.
You have made me alive again, opened a door to new possibilities, let me out into the sunshine.
Mrs. Tremaine.
Well, don't go back into the shadow. (Taking her hat, she goes towards mirror.)