O, and I thought it was my love at last!
I thought, from the look he had last night, I'd found
That great, brave, irresistible love!--But this!
It's like a man deformed, with half his limbs.
Am I never to have the love I dream and need,
Pouring over me, into me, winds of fire?

HAMISH _comes in_.

_Hamish_.
Well? What's the mood to-night?--The girl's been crying!
This should be something queer.

_Jean_.
It's you are to blame:
You brought him here!

_Hamish_.
It's Morris this time, is it?
And what has he done?

_Jean_.
He's insulted me.
And you must never let me see him again.

_Hamish_.
Sure I don't want him seeing you. But still,
If I'm to keep you safe from meeting him--

_Jean_.