Mrs. Tremaine.
(laughs nervously) With how little ingenuity men make love!
Denham.
Don't laugh at my raving, you cruel Blanche! I know it sounds as foolish as a schoolboy's valentine; but it is as sincere—and inadequate. Words are stupid things. (He takes her hands, and looks in her face.)
Mrs. Tremaine.
Do let us part friends. If you are in earnest, you must know this is wicked as well as foolish.
Denham.
Yes, it is always wicked to snatch a moment's supreme happiness in this world. If I am in earnest! You know I am in earnest! (He strokes her hair, then, as she turns away, he puts his arm round her waist and draws her to him.) Blanche, my beautiful Blanche! I did not mean to say all this, but it was too strong for me.
Mrs. Tremaine.
Let me go, Mr. Denham!