Rachel. We should have gone on being happy—and—now it's gone.
Carteret. Happy—you could have lived with that lie in your heart and have been happy?
Rachel. The lie was buried—he was dead—I was safe [wringing her hands]. We were happy, we should always have been happy now he is dead.
Carteret. But the truth! Do you care so little about the truth?
Rachel. The truth can be so terrible.
Carteret. Is that what women are like?
Rachel. Oh, women are afraid. All these years I have been so terrified—so haunted by terror—till I knew he was dead. Then—then—I thought I was safe. I used to think—suppose—suppose, you ever came to know it! I tried to tell you, at first, I did, indeed, but my heart died at the thought…. And then when I fell in love with you and saw how desperately you cared for Mary—
Carteret [he shrinks]. Don't—
Rachel. I couldn't—and then, I thought it was in the letter—and you'd see it, and so I told you—I told you.
Carteret [looking at the letter and reading]. 'His god-child'—is that true?