BERTHA. Yes, that’s all. Except that he asked me would I meet him. RICHARD. Out somewhere? BERTHA. No. In his house. RICHARD. [_Surprised._] Over there with his mother, is it? BERTHA. No, a house he has. He wrote the address for me. [_She goes to the desk, takes the key from the flower vase, unlocks the drawer and returns to him with the slip of paper._] RICHARD. [_Half to himself._] Our cottage. BERTHA. [_Hands him the slip._] Here. RICHARD. [_Reads it._] Yes. Our cottage. BERTHA. Your...? RICHARD. No, his. I call it ours. [_Looking at her._] The cottage I told you about so often—that we had the two keys for, he and I. It is his now. Where we used to hold our wild nights, talking, drinking, planning—at that time. Wild nights; yes. He and I together. [_He throws the slip on the couch and rises suddenly._] And sometimes I alone. [_Stares at her._] But not quite alone. I told you. You remember? BERTHA. [_Shocked._] That place? RICHARD. [_Walks away from her a few paces and stands still, thinking, holding his chin._] Yes. BERTHA. [_Taking up the slip again._] Where is it? RICHARD. Do you not know? BERTHA. He told me to take the tram at Lansdowne Road and to ask the man to let me down there. Is it... is it a bad place? RICHARD. O no, cottages. [_He returns to the lounge and sits down._] What answer did you give? BERTHA. No answer. He said he would wait. RICHARD. Tonight? BERTHA. Every night, he said. Between eight and nine. RICHARD. And so I am to go tonight to interview—the professor. About the appointment I am to beg for. [_Looking at her._] The interview is arranged for tonight by him—between eight and nine. Curious, isn’t it? The same hour. BERTHA. Very. RICHARD. Did he ask you had I any suspicion? BERTHA. No. RICHARD. Did he mention my name? BERTHA. No. RICHARD. Not once? BERTHA. Not that I remember. RICHARD. [_Bounding to his feet._] O yes! Quite clear! BERTHA. What? RICHARD. [_Striding to and fro._] A liar, a thief, and a fool! Quite clear! A common thief! What else? [_With a harsh laugh._] My great friend! A patriot too! A thief—nothing else! [_He halts, thrusting his hands into his pockets._] But a fool also! BERTHA. [_Looking at him._] What are you going to do? RICHARD. [_Shortly._] Follow him. Find him. Tell him. [_Calmly._] A few words will do. Thief and fool. BERTHA. [_Flings the slip on the couch._] I see it all! RICHARD. [_Turning._] Eh! BERTHA. [_Hotly._] The work of a devil. RICHARD. He? BERTHA. [_Turning on him._] No, you! The work of a devil to turn him against me as you tried to turn my own child against me. Only you did not succeed. RICHARD. How? In God’s name, how?