ROBERT. [_Insistently._] And you know why? And understand? And you like it? And you want to be? And it makes you happy? And has made you happy? Always? This gift of freedom which he gave you—nine years ago? BERTHA. [_Gazing at him with wide open eyes._] But why do you ask me such a lot of questions, Robert? ROBERT. [_Stretches out both hands to her._] Because I had another gift to offer you then—a common simple gift—like myself. If you want to know it I will tell you. BERTHA. [_Looking at her watch._] Past is past, Robert. And I think I ought to go now. It is nine almost. ROBERT. [_Impetuously._] No, no. Not yet. There is one confession more and we have the right to speak. [_He crosses before the table rapidly and sits down beside her._] BERTHA. [_Turning towards him, places her left hand on his shoulder._] Yes, Robert. I know that you like me. You need not tell me. [_Kindly._] You need not confess any more tonight. [_A gust of wind enters through the porch, with a sound of moving leaves. The lamp flickers quickly._] BERTHA. [_Pointing over his shoulder._] Look! It is too high. [_Without rising, he bends towards the table, and turns down the wick more. The room is half dark. The light comes in more strongly through the doorway of the bedroom._] ROBERT. The wind is rising. I will close that door. BERTHA. [_Listening._] No, it is raining still. It was only a gust of wind. ROBERT. [_Touches her shoulder._] Tell me if the air is too cold for you. [_Half rising._] I will close it. BERTHA. [_Detaining him._] No. I am not cold. Besides, I am going now, Robert. I must. ROBERT. [_Firmly._] No, no. There is no _must_ now. We were left here for this. And you are wrong, Bertha. The past is not past. It is present here now. My feeling for you is the same now as it was then, because then—you slighted it. BERTHA. No, Robert. I did not. ROBERT. [_Continuing._] You did. And I have felt it all these years without knowing it—till now. Even while I lived—the kind of life you know and dislike to think of—the kind of life to which you condemned me. BERTHA. I? ROBERT. Yes, when you slighted the common simple gift I had to offer you—and took his gift instead. BERTHA. [_Looking at him._] But you never... ROBERT. No. Because you had chosen him. I saw that. I saw it on the first night we met, we three together. Why did you choose him? BERTHA. [_Bends her head._] Is that not love? ROBERT. [_Continuing._] And every night when we two—he and I—came to that corner to meet you I saw it and felt it. You remember the corner, Bertha? BERTHA. [_As before._] Yes. ROBERT. And when you and he went away for your walk and I went along the street alone I felt it. And when he spoke to me about you and told me he was going away—then most of all. BERTHA. Why then most of all? ROBERT. Because it was then that I was guilty of my first treason towards him. BERTHA. Robert, what are you saying? Your first treason against Dick?