AUDR. Love is hardly the word. It is more like--if a man could create a dog, and be her master, friend, father, and God, I think she would feel towards him something of what I feel towards you. You have first made me know what love is, what life is. You have changed me thoroughly--no, you have changed half of me thoroughly--one half is still worthless, silly, capricious, hollow, worldly, and bad--that's my old self. She is gradually withering up under your influence, that old Audrie Lesden. The other half is looking out of my eyes at you now! Look! do you see the new Audrie Lesden that is your daughter and your creature? Aren't you proud of her? MICH. I shall be proud of her when she is full grown and dares to leave me of her own free will, because she loves me, and because I am vowed to Heaven! AUDR. Do I tempt you? I'll go. You love me. That's enough, or it should be enough. I'll get back to London to-morrow, and strangle the new Audrie. Then the old Audrie will come back again, and live the old weary, dry, empty life--and grow old and wrinkled and heartless and perhaps--rouged---- MICH. Why do you tear me so? What do you want of me here or hereafter? Take it! It's yours---- AUDR. You dare go on--now you know? MICH. Yes. AUDR. Ah! I thought it was only women who dared hell for love. I won't take your sacrifice--I will leave you. MICH. You will? Yes, it must be so! My work, my vows--I cannot, may not taste of earthly love. Oh, it's cruel to dash the cup from my lips! (_Pause; then very calmly._) You are right! I feel that we are choosing heaven or hell for both our souls this night! Help me to choose heaven for you, and I'll help you to choose heaven for me. AUDR. Good-bye, my love, for ever. Be brave--and very cold to me, now. Be like marble--and death. MICH. (_takes her hand; a very long pause; then speaks very calmly_). It is victory, isn't it? We have conquered? I'll go down to the bay and see if your boat has come. (_By this time it is dark outside._) AUDR. Half-past six. I shall have a cold, dark voyage. MICH. And it is just a little rough. But Hannaford is a careful boatman. AUDR. It's not Hannaford who is coming for me. I telegraphed for Withycombe. MICH. (_pause--very pale and cold_). Withycombe? But you always employ Hannaford? AUDR. Yes; and I did write out one telegram to him, and then I thought I should like to go back in the boat that always takes you. So I tore up the telegram to Hannaford, and telegraphed to Withycombe. MICH. Withycombe? AUDR. Yes, what's the matter? MICH. He lives alone. When he goes out, he locks up his cottage. Your telegram will wait at the post office. AUDR. Why? MICH. Withycombe has gone over to Saint Margaret's with Gibbard and my uncle. They stay there the night. AUDR. Your own boat? MICH. I had it towed back last week, so that I couldn't be tempted to come to you. AUDR. Then----?