SHE. Oh! Don't you dare swear in my presence. One would think you
were my husband.

HE [again collapsing on the stool] This is some horrible dream.
What has become of you? You are not my Aurora.

SHE. Oh, well, if you come to that, what has become of you? Do
you think I would ever have encouraged you if I had known you
were such a little devil?

HE. Don't drag me down--don't--don't. Help me to find the way
back to the heights.

SHE [kneeling beside him and pleading] If you would only be
reasonable, Henry. If you would only remember that I am on the
brink of ruin, and not go on calmly saying it's all quite simple.

HE. It seems so to me.

SHE [jumping up distractedly] If you say that again I shall do
something I'll be sorry for. Here we are, standing on the edge of
a frightful precipice. No doubt it's quite simple to go over and
have done with it. But can't you suggest anything more agreeable?

HE. I can suggest nothing now. A chill black darkness has
fallen: I can see nothing but the ruins of our dream. [He rises
with a deep sigh].

SHE. Can't you? Well, I can. I can see Georgina rubbing those
poems into Teddy. [Facing him determinedly] And I tell you, Henry