[_Looking round for a moment, startled, as if she did not understand._] Oh, the eagle! [_Leans out again._ ELIZABETH. Why, childie! Are you crying? What is the matter? VERA. Don't mind me, Elizabeth. I feel just like a child crying. ELIZABETH. You have been studying too much. That is it! VERA. No, I am only left alone. ELIZABETH. Why are you alone? You need not be, dear. [_Goes up and offers_ VERA _her hand_. VERA. [_Reaching her hand back to_ ELIZABETH, _without looking in_.] Thank you, Elizabeth. You are kind to me. But you cannot be any good to me now. ELIZABETH. Very well, my dear. Only you will feel better if you trust somebody. It is always so. VERA. Who is there to trust? I mean to betray some one who trusts me. ELIZABETH. My dear, I think you had better come in from that window. [_Turns._] What can you see to keep you out there? VERA. Would you like to know? [ELIZABETH _shows increasing emotion during this speech of_ VERA'S.] I see a sort of wide bottomless sheet of water,--it is only the spread of moonlight, you know. A great wide sheet of water--down there--and there is some one drowning in it. I can see his two eyes looking up to me from the depths of it, and there are his hands somewhere reaching out to me for help; and, do you know what, Elizabeth? I shall reach down and down until I can grip them, and then I shall hold him under the water till he is cold and dead---- he is cold already. That is what I see. It isn't a cheerful thing, is it? And then,--I don't know what it will be then; but now I can only see the eyes: they are not really like a man's eyes, they are like a child's eyes full of pain, and--[_turns and looks at_ ELIZABETH]--so trusting and innocent, like a little child being murdered! ELIZABETH. [_With a shriek._] No, no! God help me! Not a child's eyes! Not you too! Oh, say you don't see them! VERA. [_Coming towards her._] Elizabeth! What is it? I have never seen you like this. ELIZABETH. Oh, tell me that you don't see them! It is only to try me. _I_ know they are there. I see them always. But not you. Not a child's eyes! VERA. It was only fancy. It was what I seemed to see in the moonlight on the mist. It meant nothing. ELIZABETH. Has he told you? Why did he do it? Tell me, has he told you? [_Turns and catches hold of_ VERA. VERA. Yes, he has--he has told me---- ELIZABETH. And you are angry! You can't forgive him! Oh, Vera, you are wrong. Blame me if you like. I did love the child, but it was I who wished it. Every woman living would have wished it! [_Sits on settee._ VERA. I don't understand. Why are you like this? ELIZABETH. I was stupid with weeping when he came that night, and he was so brave and strong. He never feared anything in his life. He called me "Poor child." "Poor child," he said, "do you know why you are unhappy? Because you dare not do the thing that your heart is praying for." . . . Then he took the child out with him and came back alone. VERA.