Dr. Tomás—There he is—sitting in the arm-chair.
Dr. Bermúdez—Unfortunate man!
Lorenzo [rising, aside]—Ah, miserable being! Still cherishing impossible hopes. Impossible? And what if they honestly believe that I— [Despairingly] Ah! If they loved me they would not believe it. [Pause.] Did I not hear Inez—the child of my heart—speak of remorse? Why should she speak of remorse? [Aloud, with increasing agitation.] They are all wretches! They would almost be glad that I should die. But no: I will not die until I have fulfilled my duty as an honorable man; until I have put the climax to my madness.
Dr. Tomás [laying his hand on Don Lorenzo's shoulder]—Lorenzo—
Lorenzo [turning, recognizes him and draws back angrily]—He!
Dr. Tomás—Let me present to you Dr. Bermúdez, one of my best friends. [Pause. Don Lorenzo regards both strangely.]
Dr. Bermúdez [to Dr. Tomás, in a low voice]—See the effort he makes to control himself; he is vaguely conscious of his condition—there is not a doubt left on my mind.
Lorenzo—One of your best friends—one of your best friends—
Dr. Bermúdez [aside to Dr. Tomás]—The idea is escaping him, and he is striving to retain it.
Lorenzo [ironically]—If he is one of your best friends, then your loyalty is a guarantee for his.