[_Abruptly shoving his cup away._] Margaret, I loved Bernice. I suppose you don’t believe that! And I thought Bernice knew I loved her, in spite of--other things. What do you think it is is the matter with me, Margaret, that I--[_Saying it as if raw_] miss things. You can tell me. I’d be glad to feel some one knew. Only--don’t leave me alone while you’re telling me! MARGARET I’m afraid I have nothing to tell you, Craig. I thought I knew Bernice. And now--I _did_ know Bernice! [_Gropingly._] I feel something we don’t get to. CRAIG And Bernice can’t help us. MARGARET I think she would expect us to--find our way. She could always find her way. She had not meant to leave us _here_. Bernice was so kind. CRAIG She was kind. MARGARET Such a sensitive kindness. The kindness that divined feeling and was there ahead--to meet it. This is the very thing she would _not_ do. CRAIG [_Slowly, as if feeling his way._] Margaret, I wish I could tell you about me and Bernice. I loved her. She loved me. But there was something in her that had almost nothing to do with our love. MARGARET Yes. CRAIG Well, that isn’t right, Margaret. You want to feel that you _have_ the woman you love. Yes--completely. Yes, every bit of her! MARGARET So you turned to women whom you could have. CRAIG Yes. MARGARET But you “had” all of them simply because there was less to have. You want no baffling sense of something beyond you. [_He looks at her reproachfully._] You wanted me to help you find the truth. I don’t believe you can stand truth, Craig. CRAIG It’s hard tonight. MARGARET [_Intensely._] But perhaps it is tonight or not at all. It’s a strange thing this has done. A light trying to find its way through a fog. [_In her mind the light tries to do this._] Craig, why do you write the things you do? CRAIG Oh, Margaret, is this any time to talk of work? MARGARET It seems to be. Tonight it’s all part of the same thing. Laura and I were talking of work--quarreling about it: you were talking of Bernice’s father. The light--just goes there. That poor sad old man--why didn’t he go on? You said he was a wreck of the Darwinian theory. Then me--a wreck of free speech. CRAIG Oh I didn’t mean you were, Margaret. MARGARET But I might be. I can see that. We give ourselves in fighting for a thing that seems important and in that fight we get out of the flow of life. We had meant it to deepen the flow--but we get caught. I know people like that. People who get at home in their fight--and stay there--and are left there when the fight’s over--like this old man. How many nights Bernice and I have sat in this room and talked of things! And I had thought--[_With sudden angry passion._] If you had been good to her, she would be in this room now. [_After a look at him._] I’m sorry. But can I help feeling it? CRAIG I didn’t know. MARGARET