Plays: Lady Frederick, The Explorer, A Man of Honour

by W. Somerset Maugham

Lucy.

Oh, they said horrible things about you.

Alec.

No more than that?

Lucy.

It's nothing to you. But to me.... Oh, you don't know what agony I endure. I'm such a coward! I thought I was so much braver.

Alec.

I don't understand you.

Lucy.

I wanted to burn my ships behind me. I wanted to reassure myself. [Alec makes a slight movement away from her, but she holds him back anxiously.] Forgive me, dear. You don't know how terrible it is. I stand so dreadfully alone. Every one is convinced that you caused poor George's death—every one but me. [Alec looks at her gravely, without speaking.] I try to put the thoughts out of my head, but I can't—I can't. That letter in the Times looks so dreadfully true. Don't you see what I mean? The uncertainty is more than I can bear. At the first moment I felt so absolutely sure of you.