PAMELA. I wrote to him and he wrote to me. I met him when he came
out--he told me when to come. I suppose I had decided by then; we
came down here to tell you. I had to come at once.

GERALD. You do love him, Pamela? It isn't just pity?

PAMELA. I do, Gerald; I think I found that out this afternoon.
(Timidly) Say you don't hate me very much.

GERALD. I wish to God I could. ... What are you and Bob going to do?

PAMELA. Canada, as soon as we can. I've got friends there. We've a
little money between us. Bob ought to have done it a long time ago.
(Coming up to him) Just do one more nice thing for me before we go.

GERALD (moving away from her on pretence of getting a cigarette).
What is it?

PAMELA. Bob will want to see you before he goes.

GERALD. I don't want to see him.

PAMELA. Ah, but you must.

GERALD. What have we got to say to each other?

PAMELA. I don't know, but I feel you must see him. Otherwise he'll
think that he ran away from you.