Jenny.
No. He never says anything—but I saw it in his eyes. [Passionately clasping her hands.] Oh, you don't know what our life is. For days he doesn't say a word except to answer my questions. And the silence simply drives me mad. I shouldn't mind if he blackguarded me. I'd rather he hit me than simply look and look. I can see he's keeping himself in. He's said more to-day than he's ever said before. I knew it was getting towards the end.
John.
[With a helpless gesture.] I'm very sorry.
Jenny.
Oh, don't you pity me, too. I've had a great deal too much pity. I don't want it. Basil married me from pity. Oh, I wish he hadn't. I can't stand the unhappiness.
John.
[Gravely.] You know, Jenny, he's a man of honour.
Jenny.
Oh, I know he's a man of honour. I wish he had a little less of it. One doesn't want a lot of fine sentiments in married life. They don't work.... Oh, why couldn't I fall in love with a man of my own class? I should have been so much happier. I used to be so proud that Basil wasn't a clerk, or something in the City. He's right, we shall never be happy.