Mrs. Erlynne. [Restraining herself.] I am not. I am telling you the truth.
Lady Windermere. If my husband didn’t read my letter, how is it that you are here? Who told you I had left the house you were shameless enough to enter? Who told you where I had gone to? My husband told you, and sent you to decoy me back. [Crosses L.]
Mrs. Erlynne. [R.C.] Your husband has never seen the letter. I—saw it, I opened it. I—read it.
Lady Windermere. [Turning to her.] You opened a letter of mine to my husband? You wouldn’t dare!
Mrs. Erlynne. Dare! Oh! to save you from the abyss into which you are falling, there is nothing in the world I would not dare, nothing in the whole world. Here is the letter. Your husband has never read it. He never shall read it. [Going to fireplace.] It should never have been written. [Tears it and throws it into the fire.]
Lady Windermere. [With infinite contempt in her voice and look.] How do I know that that was my letter after all? You seem to think the commonest device can take me in!
Mrs. Erlynne. Oh! why do you disbelieve everything I tell you? What object do you think I have in coming here, except to save you from utter ruin, to save you from the consequence of a hideous mistake? That letter that is burnt now was your letter. I swear it to you!
Lady Windermere. [Slowly.] You took good care to burn it before I had examined it. I cannot trust you. You, whose whole life is a lie, could you speak the truth about anything? [Sits down.]
Mrs. Erlynne. [Hurriedly.] Think as you like about me—say what you choose against me, but go back, go back to the husband you love.
Lady Windermere. [Sullenly.] I do not love him!