Dorothy. Stop! I love him. (Between Fenwick and door, C.)
Fenwick. What do I care? I loved you too. Little he thought of that, little either of you thought of that. His blood—I’ll have his blood!
Dorothy. You shall never know his name.
Fenwick. Know it? Do you think I cannot guess? Do you think I had not heard he followed you. Do you think I had not suffered—O suffered! George Austin is the man. Dear shall he pay it!
Dorothy (at his feet). Pity me; spare me, spare your Dorothy! I love him—love him—love him!
Fenwick. Dorothy, you have robbed me of my happiness, and now you would rob me of my revenge.
Dorothy. I know it; and shall I ask, and you not grant?
Fenwick (raising her). No, Dorothy, you shall ask nothing, nothing in vain from me. You ask his life; I give it you, as I would give you my soul; as I would give you my life, if I had any left. My life is done; you have taken it. Not a hope, not an end; not even revenge. (He sits.) Dorothy, you see your work.
Dorothy. O God, forgive me.
Fenwick. Ay, Dorothy, He will, as I do.