Rose (tragically): Connected with myself?
Dr. Van Hyde (aside): Suspicious of a stranger! Restless under medical observation! These are symptoms!... I must try to divert her thoughts.
Rose: I repeat, sir—connected with myself?
Dr. Van Hyde: Pray, Miss Valdingam, do not excite yourself.
Rose: Conceal nothing! I am wretched, annoyed, persecuted. I am under a wicked surveillance. Do you imagine that I’m blind? I understand their plot. (Pointing to door at L.) And you, too, are in the plot. But I shall prove to you—at once, at once—that I am as rational as they, as you. (In a quieter tone.) Now, have you any questions to ask me?
Dr. Van Hyde (somewhat confused): Do not take the matter so seriously, Miss Valdingam. Even a rational person—not excepting myself—may have theories, hallucinations, dreams—
Rose (wildly): Dreams! I have astonishing dreams, doctor. They come to me when I am awake, when I seem to be awake. Strange noises then rattle in my brain, and I grow dizzy. In any other person, these dreams might be ideas.... At other times, the world of my fancy is crowded with men, myriads of men.
Dr. Van Hyde (aside): Her father was not mistaken.
Rose: Yes, young men; graceful men; men who flatter and adore me!... Totally unlike the men I see when I escape to New York.