STRANGER. If it's to humble one, it's a poor method. It only makes
me more arrogant. Eve!

LADY. Don't call me that.

STRANGER (starting). Why not?

LADY. I don't like it. You'd feel as I do, if I called you Caesar.

STRANGER. Have we got back to that?

LADY. To what?

STRANGER. Did you mention that name for any reason?

LADY. Caesar? No. But I'm beginning to find things out.

STRANGER. Very well! Then I may as well fall honourably by my own
hand. I am Caesar, the school-boy, for whose escapade your husband,
the werewolf, was punished. Fate delights in making links for
eternity. A noble sport! (The LADY, uncertain what to do, does not
reply.) Say something!

LADY. I can't.

STRANGER. Say that he became a werewolf because, as a child, he
lost his belief in the justice of heaven, owing to the fact that,
though innocent, he was punished for the misdeeds of another. But
if you say so, I shall reply that I suffered ten times as much from