BEATRICE. It was cruel to come, I know. For me, too. But I
couldn't write. I had to know.

STRANGWAY. Never loved me? Never loved me? That night at Tregaron?
[At the look on her face] You might have told me before you went
away! Why keep me all these----

BEATRICE. I meant to forget him again. I did mean to. I thought I
could get back to what I was, when I married you; but, you see, what
a girl can do, a woman that's been married--can't.

STRANGWAY. Then it was I--my kisses that----! [He laughs] How did
you stand them? [His eyes dart at her face] Imagination helped you,
perhaps!

BEATRICE. Michael, don't, don't! And--oh! don't make a public thing
of it! You needn't be afraid I shall have too good a time!

[He stays quite still and silent, and that which is writhing in
him makes his face so strange that BEATRICE stands aghast. At
last she goes stumbling on in speech]

If ever you want to marry some one else--then, of course--that's only
fair, ruin or not. But till then--till then----He's leaving
Durford, going to Brighton. No one need know. And you--this isn't
the only parish in the world.

STRANGWAY. [Quietly] You ask me to help you live in secret with
another man?