Cobbett.
I naturally talked about what I thought would please you.
Grace.
I remember at first I felt as if I were just stepping out of a prison into the fresh air. It seemed to me as if—oh, I don’t know how to put it—as if spring flowers were suddenly blossoming in my heart.
Cobbett.
I’m afraid you were asking more from me than I was able to give you.
Grace.
Oh, I don’t blame you. You’re quite right: it’s I who am to blame. [With sudden vehemence.] Oh, how I envy that wretched girl! If she fell it was because she loved. I asked her who the man was, and she wouldn’t tell me. She said she didn’t want to get him into trouble. She must love him still.
Cobbett.
[Moved by the pain which he sees she is suffering.] I hope you don’t think me an awful skunk, Grace. I’m sorry we’ve made such a hash of things.