RITA. [Throwing her arms passionately round his neck.] For then, at
last, I should have you to myself alone! And yet--not even then!
Not wholly to myself! [Bursts into convulsive weeping.] Oh, Alfred,
Alfred--I cannot give you up!

ALLMERS. [Gently releasing himself.] My dearest Rita, do be
reasonable!

RITA. I don't care a bit about being reasonable! I care only for
you! Only for you in all the world! [Again throwing her arms
round his neck.] For you, for you, for you!

ALLMERS. Let me go, let me go--you are strangling me!

RITA. [Letting him go.] How I wish I could! [Looking at him with
flashing eyes.] Oh, if you knew how I have hated you--!

ALLMERS. Hated me--!

RITA. Yes--when you shut yourself up in your room and brooded
over your work--till long, long into the night. [Plaintively.]
So long, so late, Alfred. Oh, how I hated your work!

ALLMERS. But now I have done with that.

RITA. [With a cutting laugh.] Oh yes! Now you have given yourself
up to something worse.

ALLMERS. [Shocked.] Worse! Do you call our child something worse?