It's like--something in the air. This man is influencing
us both oddly. Lucas is as near illness again as possible; I can hear
his nerves vibrating. And I--you know what a fish-like thing I am as a
rule--just look at me now, as I'm speaking to you.
GERTRUDE. But don't you and Mr. Cleeve--talk to each other?
AGNES. As children do when the lights are put out--of everything but
what's uppermost in their minds.
GERTRUDE. You have met the man?
AGNES. I intend to meet him.
GERTRUDE. Who is he?
AGNES. A relation of Lucas's--the Duke of St. Olpherts
GERTRUDE. He has right on his side, then?
AGNES. If you choose to think so.
GERTRUDE. Supposing he does succeed in taking Mr. Cleeve away from you?
AGNES. [Staring at GERTRUDE.] What, now, do you mean?
GERTRUDE. Yes.
[There is a brief pause; then AGNES walks across the room, wiping her
brow with her handkerchief.]
AGNES. I tell you, that idea's--preposterous.
GERTRUDE. Oh, I can't understand you.
AGNES. You'll respect my confidence?
GERTRUDE. Agnes!
AGNES. [Sitting.] Well, I fancy this man's presence here has simply
started me thinking of a time--oh, it may never come!--a time when I
may cease to be--necessary to Mr. Cleeve. Do you understand?
GERTRUDE. I remember what you told me of your being prepared to grant
each other freedom if--
AGNES.
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