Lady Patricia.
Ah.... You were always large-minded and gentle and tolerant.... Aunt Eileen....
Mrs. O’Farrel.
Well?
Lady Patricia.
They told me you were here, so I came out. I am determined to speak before you both. It was not what I had meant to do. I had hoped to lay bare my secret soul in secret to the Dean. Deliberately I have chosen the fiercer ordeal. For I expect and deserve no sympathy from you, no mercy, no forgiveness, no understanding....
Mrs. O’Farrel.
I think I understand you well enough, Patricia.
Lady Patricia.
But do you? Oh, do you? Can any one so sane and practical understand this living paradox? Can prose ever understand poetry? I am the refined essence of spirit and sense. I am a thing of fire and dew. I have in me the making of a great saint and a great courtesan....