[Gently pushing him from her.] Quick--dress--take me out.
LUCAS. You are shivering--get your thickest wrap.
AGNES. That heavy brown cloak of mine?
LUCAS. Yes.
AGNES. It's an old friend, but--dreadfully shabby. You will be ashamed
of me again.
LUCAS. Ashamed--!
AGNES. I'll write to Bardini about a new one tomorrow. I won't oppose
you--I won't repel you any more.
LUCAS. Repel me! I only urged you to reveal yourself as what you are--
a beautiful woman.
AGNES. Ah! Am I--that?
LUCAS. [Kissing her.] Beautiful--beautiful!
AGNES. [With a gesture of abandonment.] I'm--glad. [She leaves him and
goes out. He looks after her for a moment thoughtfully, then suddenly
passes his hands across his brow and opens his arms widely as if
casting a burden from him.]
LUCAS. Oh!--oh! [Turning away alertly.] Fortune--
END OF THE SECOND ACT
THE THIRD ACT
[The Scene is the same as before, but it is evening, and the lamps are
lighted within the room, while outside it is bright moonlight.]
[AGNES, dressed as at the end of the preceding Act, is lying upon the
settee propped up by pillows. A pretty silk shawl, with which she plays
restlessly, is over her shoulders. Her face is pale, but her eyes
glitter, and her voice has a bright ring in it. KIRKE is seated at a
table writing.
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