(The hammer is raised.)

DEARTH. I am . . . it is coming back--I am not the man I thought
myself.

ALICE. I am not Mrs. Finch-Fallowe. Who am I?

DEARTH (staring at her). You were that lady.

ALICE. It is you--my husband!

(She is overcome.)

MRS. COADE. My dear, you are much better off, so far as I can see,
than if you were Mrs. Finch-Fallowe.

ALICE (with passionate knowledge). Yes, yes indeed! (Generously.) But
he isn't.

DEARTH. Alice! . . . I--(He tries to smile.) I didn't know you when I
was in the wood with Margaret. She . . . she . . . Margaret . . .
(The hammer falls.)

O my God!

(He buries his face in his hands.)

ALICE. I wish--I wish--

(She presses his shoulder fiercely and then stalks out by the door.)