Flo. (With handkerchief to eyes, in broken voice.) Herbert, we must all die. She is happy now.
Herb. And I, miserable wretch, repaid her love with disobedience. I broke her heart.
Flo. (Gently takes his hand.) Brother, have you asked God to forgive you?
Herb. Yes, but my prayers are in vain.
Flo. No, God forgives, and she has forgiven. She died with your name on her lips.
Herb. (Moved.) I must go now. For months I have dwelt upon the time when I could fall on my knees at her side and ask her forgiveness. Now there is only the hard world for me. And father—
Flo. You must not see him yet.
Herb. He is still relentless? I do not blame him, but he might have written me that she was dead—
Flo. We thought—
Herb. (Looks at her.) You thought I was dead, too? I wish I had died.