He looks at JOHN for a moment as if he was going to speak. JOHN remains motionless.  The blow has hit him harder than he thought. WILL exits.  The first door closes.  In a moment the second door is slammed. JOHN and LAURA look at each other for a moment.  He gives her no chance to speak.  The hurt in his heart and his accusation are shown by his broken manner.  A great grief has come into his life and he doesn’t quite understand it.  He seems to be feeling around for something to say, some way to get out.  His head turns toward the door.  With a pitiful gesture of the hand he looks at her in all his sorrow.

JOHN.  Well? [Rises.

LAURA.  John, I—­[Takes off hat and places it on table.

JOHN.  I’d be careful what I said.  Don’t try to make excuses.  I understand.

LAURA.  It’s not excuses.  I want to tell you what’s in my heart, but I can’t; it won’t speak, and you don’t believe my voice.

JOHN.  You’d better leave it unsaid.

LAURA.  But I must tell.  I can’t let you go like this. [She goes over to him and makes a weak attempt to put her arms around him.  He takes her arms and puts them back to her side.] I love you.  I—­how can I tell you—­but I do, I do, and you won’t believe me.

He remains silent for a moment and then takes her by the hand, leads her over to the chair and places her in it.

JOHN.  I think you do as far as you are able; but, Laura, I guess you don’t know what a decent sentiment is. [He gathers himself together.  His tone is very gentle and very firm, but it carries a tremendous conviction, even with his grief ringing through his speech.] Laura, you’re not immoral, you’re just unmoral, kind o’ all out of shape, and I’m afraid there isn’t a particle of hope for you.  When we met neither of us had any reason to be proud, but I thought that you thought that it was the chance of salvation which sometimes comes to a man and a woman fixed as we were then.  What had been had been.  It was all in the great to-be for us, and now, how you’ve kept your word!  What little that promise meant, when I thought you handed me a new lease of life!

LAURA. [In a voice that is changed and metallic.  She is literally being nailed to the cross.] You’re killing me—­killing me.

JOHN.  Don’t make such a mistake.  In a month you’ll recover.  There will be days when you will think of me, just for a moment, and then it will be all over.  With you it is the easy way, and it always will be.  You’ll go on and on until you’re finally left a wreck, just the type of the common woman.  And you’ll sink until you’re down to the very bed-rock of depravity.  I pity you.

LAURA. [Still in the same metallic tone of voice.] You’ll never leave me to do that.  I’ll kill myself.

JOHN.  Perhaps that’s the only thing left for you to do, but you’ll not do it.  It’s easier to live. [Crosses, gets hat and coat, turns and looks at her, LAURA rising at the same time.