BEATRICE. To let me go out of your life. You've only to do-- nothing. [He goes, slowly, close to her.] STRANGWAY. I want you. Come back to me! Beatrice, come back! BEATRICE. It would be torture, now. STRANGWAY. [Writhing] Oh! BEATRICE. Whatever's in your heart--do! STRANGWAY. You'd come back to me sooner than ruin him? Would you? BEATRICE. I can't bring him harm. STRANGWAY. [Turning away] God!--if there be one help me! [He stands leaning his forehead against the window. Suddenly his glance falls on the little bird cage, still lying on the window-seat] Never cage any wild thing! [He gives a laugh that is half a sob; then, turning to the door, says in a low voice] Go! Go please, quickly! Do what you will. I won't hurt you--can't----But--go! [He opens the door.] BEATRICE. [Greatly moved] Thank you! [She passes him with her head down, and goes out quickly. STRANGWAY stands unconsciously tearing at the little bird-cage. And while he tears at it he utters a moaning sound. The terrified MERCY, peering from behind the curtain, and watching her chance, slips to the still open door; but in her haste and fright she knocks against it, and STRANGWAY sees her. Before he can stop her she has fled out on to the green and away.] [While he stands there, paralysed, the door from the house is opened, and MRS. BURLACOMBE approaches him in a queer, hushed way.] MRS. BURLACOMBE. [Her eyes mechanically fixed on the twisted bird-cage in his hands] 'Tis poor Sue Cremer, zurr, I didn't 'ardly think she'd last thru the mornin'. An' zure enough she'm passed away! [Seeing that he has not taken in her words] Mr. Strangway-- yu'm feelin' giddy? STRANGWAY. No, no! What was it? You said---- MRS. BURLACOMBE. 'Tes Jack Cremer. His wife's gone. 'E'm in a terrible way. 'Tes only yu, 'e ses, can du 'im any gude. He'm in the kitchen. STRANGWAY. Cremer? Yes! Of course. Let him---- MRS. BURLACOMBE. [Still staring at the twisted cage] Yu ain't wantin' that--'tes all twizzled. [She takes it from him] Sure yu'm not feelin' yer 'ead? STRANGWAY. [With a resolute effort] No! MRS. BURLACOMBE. [Doubtfully] I'll send 'im in, then. [She goes. When she is gone, Strangway passes his handkerchief across his forehead, and his lips move fast. He is standing motionless when CREMER, a big man in labourer's clothes, with a thick, broad face, and tragic, faithful eyes, comes in, and stands a little in from the closed door, quite dumb.] STRANGWAY. [After a moment's silence--going up to him and laying a hand on his shoulder] Jack! Don't give way. If we give way--we're done. CREMER. Yes, zurr. [A quiver passes over his face.] STRANGWAY. She didn't. Your wife was a brave woman. A dear woman. CREMER. I never thought to luse 'er. She never told me 'ow bad she was, afore she tuk to 'er bed. 'Tis a dreadful thing to luse a wife, zurr.