Elizabeth. Oh, of course, I can quite understand it.
Lady Kitty. But I had my self-respect to think of. I felt that whatever Hughie did I would do nothing that I should regret.
Elizabeth. You must be very glad now.
Lady Kitty. Oh, yes. Notwithstanding all my temptations I’ve been absolutely faithful to Hughie in spirit.
Elizabeth. I don’t think I quite understand what you mean.
Lady Kitty. Well, there was a poor Italian boy, young Count Castel Giovanni, who was so desperately in love with me that his mother begged me not to be too cruel. She was afraid he’d go into a consumption. What could I do? And then, oh, years later, there was Antonio Melita. He said he’d shoot himself unless I—well, you understand I couldn’t let the poor boy shoot himself.
Elizabeth. D’you think he really would have shot himself?
Lady Kitty. Oh, one never knows, you know. Those Italians are so passionate. He was really rather a lamb. He had such beautiful eyes.
[Elizabeth looks at her for a long time and a certain horror seizes her of this dissolute, painted old woman.
Elizabeth. [Hoarsely.] Oh, but I think that’s—dreadful.