Yes, yes; and for the past few days this idea has filled me with
a fear of the most humiliating kind.
GERTRUDE. What fear?
AGNES. The fear lest, after all my beliefs and protestations, I should
eventually find myself loving Lucas in the helpless, common way of
women--
GERTRUDE. [Under her breath.] I see.
AGNES. The dread that the moment may arrive some day when should it be
required of me, I shan't feel myself able to give him up easily. [Her
head drooping, uttering a low moan.] Oh!--
[LUCAS, dressed for going out, enters, carrying AGNES'S copy of his
manuscript, rolled and addressed for the post. AGNES rises.]
AGNES. [To LUCAS.] Mrs. Thorpe starts for home tomorrow; she has called
to say good-bye.
LUCAS. [To GERTRUDE.] It is very kind. Is your brother quite well?
GERTRUDE. [Embarrassed.] Thanks: quite.
LUCAS. [Smiling.] I believe I have added to his experience of the
obscure corners of Venice during the past week.
GERTRUDE. I--I don't--Why?
LUCAS. By so frequently putting him to the inconvenience of avoiding
me.
GERTRUDE. Oh, Mr. Cleeve, we--I--I--
LUCAS. Please tell your brother that I asked after him.
GERTRUDE. I--I can't; he--doesn't know I've--I've--
LUCAS. Ah! Really? [With a bow.] Good-bye. [He goes out, AGNES
accompanying him to the door.
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