John.
Do you really care for him?
Hilda.
[In a low voice hoarse with passion.] No, I don't care for him. I worship the very ground he treads on.
John.
[Very gravely.] Then you must do as you think best.... You're playing the most dangerous game in the world. You're playing with human hearts.... Good-bye.
Hilda.
[Taking his hand.] Good-bye, John. You're not angry with me because I was horrid.... I'm glad you told me about his wife. Now I shall know what to do.
John.
Mabel.