BERTHA. [_Excitedly._] Yes, yes. What I say. Everyone saw it. Whenever I tried to correct him for the least thing you went on with your folly, speaking to him as if he were a grownup man. Ruining the poor child, or trying to. Then, of course, I was the cruel mother and only you loved him. [_With growing excitement._] But you did not turn him against me—against his own mother. Because why? Because the child has too much nature in him. RICHARD. I never tried to do such a thing, Bertha. You know I cannot be severe with a child. BERTHA. Because you never loved your own mother. A mother is always a mother, no matter what. I never heard of any human being that did not love the mother that brought him into the world, except you. RICHARD. [_Approaching her quietly._] Bertha, do not say things you will be sorry for. Are you not glad my son is fond of me? BERTHA. Who taught him to be? Who taught him to run to meet you? Who told him you would bring him home toys when you were out on your rambles in the rain, forgetting all about him—and me? I did. I taught him to love you. RICHARD. Yes, dear. I know it was you. BERTHA. [_Almost crying._] And then you try to turn everyone against me. All is to be for you. I am to appear false and cruel to everyone except to you. Because you take advantage of my simplicity as you did—the first time. RICHARD. [_Violently._] And you have the courage to say that to me? BERTHA. [_Facing him._] Yes, I have! Both then and now. Because I am simple you think you can do what you like with me. [_Gesticulating._] Follow him now. Call him names. Make him be humble before you and make him despise me. Follow him! RICHARD. [_Controlling himself._] You forget that I have allowed you complete liberty—and allow you it still. BERTHA. [_Scornfully._] Liberty! RICHARD. Yes, complete. But he must know that I know. [_More calmly._] I will speak to him quietly. [_Appealing._] Bertha, believe me, dear! It is not jealousy. You have complete liberty to do as you wish—you and he. But not in this way. He will not despise you. You don’t wish to deceive me or to pretend to deceive me—with him, do you? BERTHA. No, I do not. [_Looking full at him._] Which of us two is the deceiver? RICHARD. Of us? You and me? BERTHA. [_In a calm decided tone._] I know why you have allowed me what you call complete liberty. RICHARD. Why? BERTHA. To have complete liberty with—that girl. RICHARD. [_Irritated._] But, good God, you knew about that this long time. I never hid it. BERTHA. You did. I thought it was a kind of friendship between you—till we came back, and then I saw. RICHARD. So it is, Bertha. BERTHA. [_Shakes her head._] No, no. It is much more; and that is why you give me complete liberty. All those things you sit up at night to write about [_pointing to the study_] in there—about her. You call that friendship? RICHARD. Believe me, Bertha dear. Believe me as I believe you.