_Emily_ (_entering distractedly in bridal costume, with a large rent in her train_). You have no eyes, I tell you, let me help. It must be found, or I am all undone! In vain my cushion I have cut in two--'twas void of all but stuffing.... Gracious Heavens, to think that all my future bliss depends on the evasive malice of a pin! [PETER _behind screen, starts violently._ _Peter_ (_aside_). A pin! what dire misgivings wring my heart! (_Hops forward with a cold dignity, holding one foot in his hand._) You seem in some excitement, EMILY? _Emily_ (_wildly_). _You_, PETER!... tell me--have you found a pin? _Peter_ (_with deadly calm_). Unhappy girl--I _have_! (_To_ Bridesmaids.) Withdraw awhile, and when we need you, we will summon you. (_Exeunt_ Bridesmaids; EMILY _and_ PETER _stand facing each other for some moments in dead silence._) The pin is found--for I have trodden on it, and may, for aught I know, be lamed for life. Speak, EMILY, what is that maid's desert whose carelessness has led to this mishap? _Emily_ (_in the desperate hope of shielding herself_). Why, should the fault be traced to any maid, instant dismissal shall be her reward, with a month's wages paid in lieu of notice! _Peter_ (_with a passionless severity_). From your own lips I judge you, EMILY. Did they not own just now that you had heard the falling of a pin--yet heeded not? Behold the outcome of your negligence! [_Extends his injured foot._ _Emily._ Oh, let me kiss the place and make it well! _Peter_ (_coldly withdrawing foot_). Keep your caresses till I ask for them. My wound goes deeper than you wot of yet, and by that disregarded pin is pricked the iridescent bubble of Illusion! _Emily_ (_slowly_). Indeed, I do not wholly comprehend. _Peter._ Have patience and I will be plainer yet. Mine is a complex nature, EMILY; magnanimous, but still methodical. An injury I freely can forgive, forget it--(_striking his chest_)--never! She who leaves about pins on the floor to pierce a lover's foot, will surely plant a thorn within the side of him whose fate it is to be her husband! _Emily_ (_dragging herself towards him on her knees_). Have pity on me, PETER; I was mad! _Peter_ (_with emotion_). How can I choose but pity thee, poor soul, who, for the sake of temporary ease, hast forfeited the bliss that had been thine! You could not stoop to pick a pin up. Why? Because, forsooth, 'twas but a paltry pin! Yet, duly husbanded, that self-same pin had served you to secure your gaping train, your self-respect--and Me. _Emily_ (_wailing_). What have I done?