Angelica—Ah, I do not care! Let me go! I am strong; let me go! I will risk the eyes!
Jean—If you bid me I will go and see whether I can find it again; but you—
Angelica—Jean, you do not know how strong I am. I have done as mother bade me; I have breathed in the breath of the everlasting spring, and I am strong enough to go. Mother would let me—I would make her let me go! And we would then come and tell her! Ah, let me go and see at least if that gallery is still open and if—in case we wished to—we could go by that way to The World Above. Come, come, dear Jean, will you come? (She draws Jean to his feet and pulls him excitedly on.)
Jean—But, Angelica—
Angelica—Come, come! In what direction is it? Only tell me that!
Jean—I have forgotten exactly where it was, but it was down the Grand Canal and beyond the Great Cross; it is likely that it was some strange affliction of my eyes that seized me; only that, dear Angelica!
Angelica—No, no; we must try to find it. We must at least go there and have one look outward. (With determination) Jean, if you do not come with me, I shall go alone, and I shall wander till I find.
Jean—No, no, dear! Never think of doing such a thing!
Angelica—I shall! I am going now! (She flies along the passage, and then stops and gazes back upon Jean. She looks like a spirit shining out in the darkness). Are you coming? I am going on!
Jean—Then go on, Angelica; I will come with you. I am coming, I am coming! (Both figures pass under the arch of masonry fringed with its grotesque fungi, and disappear into the black darkness).