Teodora. Will he recover?
Mercedes. I think so.
Teodora. My God! My life for his.
Mercedes. [Draws her affectionately forward.] And then—I have faith in your good sense. I can measure your remorse by your tears and anxiety.
Teodora. Yes [Doña Mercedes sits down with a satisfied air], I did wrong, I know, in going to see him [Doña Mercedes looks disappointed the confession is no worse], but last night you told me about the outrage and the duel. I was grateful to you for doing so, although I did not then suspect the harm you did me, nor could I now explain it to you. Oh, what a night! [Crosses her hands and glances upward.] I have cried and raved, thinking of Julian's plight, of the scandal, of the violent quarrel and the bloodshed. Everything passed before my eyes—and then—poor Ernest dying, perhaps, for my sake! But why do you look at me so strangely? there can be no harm in it, surely! Or are you unconvinced, and do you think as the rest do?
Mercedes. [drily.] I think your fear for that fellow's life altogether superfluous.
Teodora. Why? with so skilled an antagonist! You have seen it—Julian——
Mercedes. Julian has been avenged. The man who killed him no longer lives, so that you have been wasting your fears and your tears. [With deliberate hardness.]
Teodora. [Eagerly.] It was Ernest——
Mercedes. Yes, Ernest.