Dickie.
It’s not the time of year for a motor trip. [Pause. Penelope looks straight in front of her, taking no notice of what he says.] It’ll rain cats and dogs, and you’ll catch a beastly cold. You’ll probably get pneumonia. [Pause.] I’m feeling awfully run down, and I shouldn’t wonder if I were sickening for something myself. [Penelope smothers a giggle and continues to stare into vacancy. Dickie breaks out passionately.] But don’t you see that if I’m preventing you from going, it’s because I can’t bear to let you out of my sight? I want you. I want you always by me. I want you to love me.... Oh, if you only knew how much I love you, you wouldn’t be so heartless.
Penelope.
[Turning to him and speaking quite calmly.] But surely, if you cared for me, you wouldn’t try to deprive me of a little enjoyment. You’d be willing to sacrifice yourself sometimes. You’d have a certain regard for my wishes. You wouldn’t put every absurd obstacle in the way when the chance offers for me to have some amusement.
[Dickie looks at her for a moment then turns away and walks up and down, with downcast head. He takes the key out of his pocket and silently puts it on the table beside her.
Penelope.
What does that mean?
Dickie.
[In a broken voice.] You’re quite right. I’ve simply been beastly selfish. I was only thinking of myself. I dare say I bore you. Perhaps you’ll like me better when you’ve been away for a few days.
[Penelope is so moved that she can hardly keep up her acting any longer. She struggles with herself, and in a moment masters the desire to throw herself in his arms.