NeRISSE [_preventing her from speaking_] Wait; I insist upon speaking.

You will never love, you say. You will live alone all your life. You're foolish and self-confident enough to think that you can do without a man's affection.

THeReSE. But I--

NeRISSE [_continuing_] I must try to make you understand your folly.

These efforts you're making to escape from the ordinary life of affection are useless, and it's lucky for you they are useless. You can't live without love.

THeReSE. Why?

NeRISSE. All lonely people are wretched. But the lonely woman is twice, a hundred times more wretched than the man. You've no idea what it is.

It's to pa.s.s all your life under suspicion, yes, suspicion. The world never believes that people live differently from others unless they have secret reasons, and the world always says that secret reasons are shameful reasons. And that's not all. Think of the lonely room where you may cry without anyone to hear you. Think of illness where to your bodily pain is added the mental torture of the fear of dying all alone.

Think of the empty heart, the empty arms always, always. And in old age, more wretchedness in the regret for a wasted life. And for what and for whom are you making this sacrifice? For a convention; for a morality that n.o.body really believes in. Who'll think the better of you for it?

People won't even believe in your honesty. They will find explanations for it that would make you die of shame if you knew them. Is that what you want, Therese? I am unhappy. Love me. Oh, if you only--

THeReSE. Please spare me your confidences.

NeRISSE. You think this is only a caprice on my part. You are mistaken.

I ask you to share my life.

THeReSE. I will never be your mistress.

NeRISSE. You're proud and you're strong. You insist upon marriage. Very well. I agree.

THeReSE. I will not have you! I will not have you!

NeRISSE. Why? Tell me why.

THeReSE. I _will_ tell you why; and then, I hope, I shall have done with you. You're right in one way. I believe I should not be able to live all alone. I should be too unhappy. But at least I'll keep my right of choice. If ever I give myself to anyone, it will be to someone I love.

[_With vehemence_] And I love him, I love him!

NeRISSE [_violently_] You have a lover! If that's true--

THeReSE [_with a cry of triumph_] Oh, have I got to the bottom of your vulgar, hateful little soul? If there ever was any danger of my giving in, your expression then would have saved me. You never thought there could be anything better. A lover! No, I have no lover. I have a love.

NeRISSE. I don't see so very much difference.

THeReSE [_proudly_] I know you don't, and that shows what you are. This is the one love of my life, my love for my betrothed. I lost my money and that separated us, but we found each other again. It's unhappy to be separated, but we bear our unhappiness out of respect for what you call prejudices, because we know how our defying them would hurt those we love. You think me ridiculous, but you cannot imagine how utterly indifferent I am. I am waiting, we are waiting, with perfect trust and love. Now d'you understand that I'm perfectly safe from you? Go!

NeRISSE [_in a low voice which trembles with anger and jealousy_] How dare you say that to me, Therese? How dare you bring such a picture before me? I will not allow you to belong to another man. [_He advances towards her_]

THeReSE [_in violent excitement_] No, no, don't dare! Don't touch me!

don't dare to touch me!

_She cries out those words with such violence and in a voice of such authority that Nerisse stops and drops into a chair._

NeRISSE. Forgive me. I'm out of my mind. I don't know what I'm doing.

THeReSE [_in a low, forced voice_] Will you go? I've work to do.

NeRISSE. Yes, I'll go. [_He rises and says humbly_] I want to ask you--you won't leave us?

THeReSE. You dare to say that? You think I'll expose myself a second time to a scene like this. Yes! I shall leave, and leave to-night!

_Will_ you go?

NeRISSE. I implore you. [_Hearing a noise outside, suddenly alarmed_]

Here she is! Control yourself, I beg of you. Don't tell her.

THeReSE. You needn't be afraid.

_Madame Nerisse comes in._

MADAME NeRISSE [_looking from one to the other_] What's going on here?

NeRISSE. Mademoiselle Therese says that she's going to leave us, and I tried to make her understand--perhaps you could do something--I must go out.

MADAME NeRISSE. Yes. Go.

_He takes his hat and goes out at the back._

MADAME NeRISSE. You wish to leave us?

THeReSE. Yes, Madame.

MADAME NeRISSE. Because Monsieur Nerisse--?

THeReSE. Yes, Madame.

MADAME NeRISSE [_troubled and sad_] What can I say to you?

THeReSE. Nothing, Madame.

MADAME NeRISSE. My poor child.

THeReSE. I don't want pity. Don't be unhappy about me. I shall be able to manage for myself. I have plenty of courage.

MADAME NeRISSE. I'm so ashamed to let you go like this. How honest and loyal you are! [_To herself_] I was honest too, once.

THeReSE. Good-bye, Madame. [_She begins to tidy her papers_]

MADAME NeRISSE. Good-bye, Therese.

_Madame Nerisse goes out._

_When Therese is left alone she breaks down and bursts out crying like a little child. Then she wipes her eyes, puts her hat on, goes to the cardboard box, and takes out her veil, which she slips into her little bag. She takes out Monsieur Nerisse's letter; still crying she puts the letter into another envelope, which she closes and leaves well in sight upon the table. Then she takes her little black moleskin bag and her umbrella and goes out slowly. She is worn out, almost stooping; and, as the curtain falls, one sees the poor little figure departing, its shoulders shaken by sobs._