(_coming forward_) No; come in, Constance. Blanche is going away.

(_Crosses_ L.)

Mrs. Denham.

Indeed! I must apologise for interrupting a very pretty parting scene. Had I not better retire until your interesting _tete-a-tete_ is over?

Denham.

There is no necessity. It is over.

Mrs. Denham.

(_coming down_ C) Then may I ask for an explanation of--what I have unintentionally seen?

Denham.

Certainly. You have a right to ask anything you please.

Mrs. Denham.

Well?

Denham.

We have had our fit of madness. Now we are sane, and Blanche is going away. That is all. (_Goes to table_ L.)

Mrs. Denham.

Oh, indeed! Arthur, Arthur, I trusted in your love, and you have betrayed me. You love this woman!

Mrs. Tremaine.

(_coming down_) Let _me_ speak, Constance. If there be a fault or a folly in the matter, it is mine. You hate me; you have cause. I have--been vain and selfish. I thought, like many another woman, I could play with temptation--

Mrs. Denham.

(_with fierce scorn_) And with your experience, too!

Mrs. Tremaine.

I know my own weakness now. But I am going away, Constance--going away out of your lives for ever. If I have sinned, I can expiate.

Mrs. Denham.

Expiate! A fine word, with which we drug our consciences. You have treated me basely, cruelly, treacherously, and you _will expiate_! A common thief can at least make restitution. Can you do that? You are going away, taking my husband's heart with you. Can you give me that back? I would rather you had stabbed me--killed me with one merciful stroke.

Mrs. Tremaine.

No, I am taking nothing with me--nothing but my own folly. I have been the toy of your husband's imagination, that is all. To him this has been nothing more than a passing flirtation.

Mrs. Denham.

You love him, and he loves you. Don't palter with the truth.

(_Crosses_ L.)

Mrs. Tremaine.

Yes, I love him; but he does _not_ love me. If either of us have cause for jealousy, it is not you.

Mrs. Denham.

(_laughing bitterly_) You jealous of me? You dare to say this?

(_Moves towards door._)

Denham.

For God's sake, Constance, don't let us lose our heads! Let us be just to each other. This was our fate. Call it our fault, if you will. We have been in the grip of a strong temptation; but we have given each other up.

(_Mrs. Tremaine puts on her hat, cloak, and gloves._)

Mrs. Denham.

(_coming back_ C) Given each other up! Do you think you can satisfy _me_ with such phrases? I am to be your faithful wife, I suppose; content with whatever poor shreds of affection you choose to dole out to me, while all your thoughts are with another woman.

It would have been more straightforward, (_with withering contempt_) I won't say more _manly_, to have told me plainly: "I cannot love you, therefore I must leave you." But this intrigue behind my back is despicable--despicable!

Denham.

(_pacing about angrily_) Intrigue! Yes, of course. You always knew the value of an ugly word. (_Restraining himself._) Otherwise you have put the abstract morality of the thing admirably. But I am unprincipled enough not to want to desert my wife and child, merely because I love another woman.

Mrs. Denham.

Oh yes, compromise, compromise, the god that men worship! Go to your mistress, if she will have you. I renounce you.

Mrs. Tremaine.

(_laughing bitterly_) Excuse me, but our little comedy is played out. I am out of the story. (_Exit._)

Denham.

(_crosses up to door_) Stay, Blanche! You must not go like this. One moment, Constance.

(_Exit, following Mrs. Tremaine._)

Mrs. Denham.

(_flinging herself down on the sofa_) My God! my God! what am I to do? How am I to live? I cannot stay in this house with a man who no longer loves me. Oh, if _she_ had not come between us! Yes, yes! A pretty face and a little flattery outweighs a life's devotion. Oh, it is hard, it is hard!

(_A pause. Then enter Undine._)