_Ventnor (eagerly)_. May I have it? Ah, thanks. This is _very_ interesting. The last copy sold in London for £40, and they tell me the next will fetch twice as much. It’s quite _introuvable_. _Mrs. Dale_. I know that. _(A pause. She takes the book from him, opens it, and reads, half to herself--)_ _How much we two have seen together, Of other eyes unwist, Dear as in days of leafless weather The willow’s saffron mist, Strange as the hour when Hesper swings A-sea in beryl green, While overhead on dalliant wings The daylight hangs serene, And thrilling as a meteor’s fall Through depths of lonely sky, When each to each two watchers call: I saw it!--So did I._ _Ventnor_. Thin, thin--the troubadour tinkle. Odd how little promise there is in first volumes! _Mrs. Dale (with irresistible emphasis)_. I thought there was a distinct promise in this! _Ventnor (seeing his mistake)_. Ah--the one you would never let me fulfil? _(Sentimentally.)_ How inexorable you were! You never dedicated a book to _me_. _Mrs. Dale_. I hadn’t begun to write when we were--dedicating things to each other. _Ventnor_. Not for the public--but you wrote for me; and, wonderful as you are, you’ve never written anything since that I care for half as much as-- _Mrs. Dale (interested)_. Well? _Ventnor_. Your letters. _Mrs. Dale (in a changed voice)_. My letters--do you remember them? _Ventnor_. When I don’t, I reread them. _Mrs. Dale (incredulous)_. You have them still? _Ventnor (unguardedly)_. You haven’t mine, then? _Mrs. Dale (playfully)_. Oh, you were a celebrity already. Of course I kept them! _(Smiling.)_ Think what they are worth now! I always keep them locked up in my safe over there. _(She indicates a cabinet.)_ _Ventnor (after a pause)_. I always carry yours with me. _Mrs. Dale (laughing)_. You-- _Ventnor_. Wherever I go. _(A longer pause. She looks at him fixedly.)_ I have them with me now. _Mrs. Dale (agitated)_. You--have them with you--now? _Ventnor (embarrassed)_. Why not? One never knows-- _Mrs. Dale_. Never knows--? _Ventnor (humorously)_. Gad--when the bank-examiner may come round. You forget I’m a married man. _Mrs. Dale_. Ah--yes. _Ventnor (sits down beside her)_. I speak to you as I couldn’t to anyone else--without deserving a kicking. You know how it all came about. _(A pause.)_ You’ll bear witness that it wasn’t till you denied me all hope-- _Mrs. Dale (a little breathless)_. Yes, yes-- _Ventnor_. Till you sent me from you-- _Mrs. Dale_. It’s so easy to be heroic when one is young! One doesn’t realize how long life is going to last afterward. _(Musing.)_ Nor what weary work it is gathering up the fragments. _Ventnor_. But the time comes when one sends for the china-mender, and has the bits riveted together, and turns the cracked side to the wall-- _Mrs. Dale_. And denies that the article was ever damaged?