FRANCES.  You didn’t love her enough!

TREBELL.  I didn’t love her at all.

FRANCES.  Then why should she value your gift?

TREBELL.  For its own sake.

FRANCES. [Turning away.] It’s hopeless ... you don’t understand.

TREBELL. [Helpless; almost like a deserted child.] I’ve been trying to ... all through the night.

FRANCES. [Turning back enlightened a little.] That’s more the trouble then than the Cabinet question?

      He shakes himself to his feet and begins to pace the room; his
      keenness coming back to him, his brow knitting again with the delight
      of thought.

TREBELL.  Oh ... as to me against the world ...  I’m fortified with comic courage. [Then turning on her like any examining professor.] Now which do you believe ... that Man is the reformer, or that the Time brings forth such men as it needs and lobster-like can grow another claw?

FRANCES. [Watching this new mood carefully.] I believe that you’ll be missed from Lord Horsham’s Cabinet.

TREBELL.  The hand-made statesman and his hand-made measure!  They were out of place in that pretty Tory garden.  Those men are the natural growth of the time.  Am I?

FRANCES.  Just as much.  And wasn’t your bill going to be such a good piece of work?  That can’t be thrown away ... wasted.

TREBELL.  Can one impose a clever idea upon men and women?  I wonder.

FRANCES.  That rather begs the question of your very existence, doesn’t it?

      He comes to a standstill.

TREBELL.  I know.

      His voice shows her that meaning in her words and beyond it a threat. 
      She goes to him, suddenly shaking with fear.

FRANCES.  Henry, I didn’t mean that.

TREBELL.  You think I’ve a mind to put an end to that same?

FRANCES. [Belittling her fright.] No ... for how unreasonable....

TREBELL.  In view of my promising past.  I’ve stood for success, Fanny; I still stand for success.  I could still do more outside the Cabinet than the rest of them, inside, will do.  But suddenly I’ve a feeling the work would be barren. [His eyes shift beyond her; beyond the room.] What is it in your thoughts and actions which makes them bear fruit?  Something that the roughest peasant may have in common with the best of us intellectual men ... something that a dog might have.  It isn’t successful cleverness.

      She stands ... his trouble beyond her reach.

FRANCES.  Come now ... you’ve done very well with your life.

TREBELL.  Do you know how empty I feel of all virtue at this moment?

      He leaves her.  She must bring him back to the plane on which she can
      help him.

FRANCES.  We must think what’s best to be done ... now ... and for the future.