(coming forward) No; come in, Constance.  Blanche is going away. (Crosses L.)

Mrs. Denham.

Indeed!  I must apologise for interrupting a very pretty parting scene.  Had I not better retire until your interesting tete-a-tete is over?

Denham.

There is no necessity.  It is over.

Mrs. Denham.

(coming down C) Then may I ask for an explanation of—­what I have unintentionally seen?

Denham.

Certainly.  You have a right to ask anything you please.

Mrs. Denham.

Well?

Denham.

We have had our fit of madness.  Now we are sane, and Blanche is going away.  That is all. (Goes to table L.)

Mrs. Denham.

Oh, indeed!  Arthur, Arthur, I trusted in your love, and you have betrayed me.  You love this woman!

Mrs. Tremaine.

(coming down) Let me speak, Constance.  If there be a fault or a folly in the matter, it is mine.  You hate me; you have cause.  I have—­been vain and selfish.  I thought, like many another woman, I could play with temptation—­

Mrs. Denham.

(with fierce scorn) And with your experience, too!

Mrs. Tremaine.

I know my own weakness now.  But I am going away, Constance—­going away out of your lives for ever.  If I have sinned, I can expiate.

Mrs. Denham.

Expiate!  A fine word, with which we drug our consciences.  You have treated me basely, cruelly, treacherously, and you will expiate!  A common thief can at least make restitution.  Can you do that?  You are going away, taking my husband’s heart with you.  Can you give me that back?  I would rather you had stabbed me—­killed me with one merciful stroke.

Mrs. Tremaine.

No, I am taking nothing with me—­nothing but my own folly.  I have been the toy of your husband’s imagination, that is all.  To him this has been nothing more than a passing flirtation.

Mrs. Denham.

You love him, and he loves you.  Don’t palter with the truth. (Crosses L.)

Mrs. Tremaine.

Yes, I love him; but he does not love me.  If either of us have cause for jealousy, it is not you.

Mrs. Denham.

(laughing bitterly) You jealous of me?  You dare to say this? (Moves towards door.)

Denham.

For God’s sake, Constance, don’t let us lose our heads!  Let us be just to each other.  This was our fate.  Call it our fault, if you will.  We have been in the grip of a strong temptation; but we have given each other up.

(Mrs. Tremaine puts on her hat, cloak, and gloves.)

Mrs. Denham.

(coming back C) Given each other up!  Do you think you can satisfy me with such phrases?  I am to be your faithful wife, I suppose; content with whatever poor shreds of affection you choose to dole out to me, while all your thoughts are with another woman.  It would have been more straightforward, (with withering contempt) I won’t say more manly, to have told me plainly:  “I cannot love you, therefore I must leave you.”  But this intrigue behind my back is despicable—­despicable!