. . . . . . . . .
Marg. Ah, well, it’s done now, and—
Philip. Yes, it’s done. For four years I’ve been like an escaped prisoner that wanted to give himself up and dreaded the punishment. I’m captured at last, and without hope or fear,—I was going to say without shame,—I ask you, my judge, to pronounce my sentence.
Marg. That’s a terrible thing to ask me to do, Philip…. (She hesitates.)
Philip. Of course you’ll get a divorce?
Marg. Don’t let us have any more ceremonies, Philip…. I gave myself to you when you asked me to. We were married in my mother’s little home. Do you remember what a bright, beautiful morning it was?
Philip. Yes.
Marg. That was seven years ago. To-day we’re here!…
. . . . . . . . .
I am calm. My eyes have simply been turned in upon myself for four years. I see clearer than I used to.