“Wouldn’t interest most people!” Oh, Craig, don’t slide away from that one honest moment. Say you haven’t got it. Don’t say they wouldn’t want it. Why, if now--in this our day--our troubled day of many shadows--came a light--a light to reach those never lighted places--wouldn’t _want_ it? I wish some one could try them! No, Craig, they all have their times of suspecting their lives are going by in a fog. They’re _pitifully_ anxious for a little light. Why--they continue to look to _writers_. You know, Craig, what living makes of us--it’s a rim--a bounded circle--and yet we know--have our times of suspecting--that if we could break through _that_. [_Seeing._] O-h. It’s like living in the mountains--those high vast places of Colorado--in a little house with shaded windows. You’d _suspect_ what was there! A little sunshine through the cracks--mountain smells--and at times the house would shake--and you’d wonder--and be fretted in your little room. And if some day you could put up the shade and--_see where you were_. Life would never be so small a thing again. Bernice could do that. Her own life did not bound her. CRAIG No. That was what-- MARGARET Hurt your vanity? CRAIG I don’t know. I’m trying to be honest. I honestly don’t know. MARGARET No. We don’t know. That’s why--oh, Craig, it would be so wonderful to be a writer--something that gets a little farther than others can get--gets at least the edge of the shadow. [_After her own moment on the edge of the shadow._] If you ever felt the shock of reality, and _got_ that back in you--you wouldn’t be thinking of whom it would “interest”! But, Craig--_this_. [_A movement toward the closed room._] Doesn’t _this_ give you that shock of reality? CRAIG What of _you_? Doesn’t it give it to you? You’re speaking as if this hadn’t happened! You leave it out--what Bernice did because of me. You’re talking of my having no power. What of _this_? _Had_ I no power? [_After her look at him._] Oh, yes--I know I used it terribly--plenty of years for my heart to break over that. But can you say I didn’t _have_ it? MARGARET I do leave it out. It isn’t right there should be anything in Bernice not Bernice. And she had a great rightness--rightness without effort--that rare, rare thing. CRAIG You say it isn’t right--and so you leave it out? And then _you_ talk about the shock of reality. MARGARET I don’t say it isn’t fact. I say it isn’t--_in the rightness_. CRAIG “In the rightness!” Is that for you to say? Is rightness what you think? What you can see? No. You didn’t know Bernice. You didn’t know she loved me--_that way_. And I didn’t know. But she did! How _could_ I have had that--and not _known_? But I _did_ have it! I did _have_ it! You say life broke through her--the whole of life. But Bernice didn’t want--the whole of life. She wanted _me_. [_He goes to the door, bows against it, all sorrow and need._] I want to talk to _her_--not you. I want her _now_--_knowing_.