BELLAC. Both of them, or more probably, one of them, the man—— PAUL. (_To_ JEANNE) The male entity! BELLAC. Would approach her whom he believes he loves—(_He approaches her_) LUCY. (_Drawing back a little_) But—— BELLAC. (_Gently holding her_) No, no, you’ll see! They gaze fixedly into each other’s eyes, she feels his breath on her cheek, her hair brushes against his face—— LUCY. But, M. Bellac—— BELLAC. And then—and then, their Egoes mingle, independently of the Ego itself, an uninterrupted series of involuntary acts which, by a natural succession, progressing slowly and inevitably, hurls them, if I may be permitted the expression, into the maelstrom which, though foreseen, cannot be avoided—in which Reason and Soul are powerless! LUCY. One moment! This process—— BELLAC. Listen, listen! Suppose now another couple and another love: a psychological, not a physiological love—an exception; you still follow me? LUCY. Yes. BELLAC. These two, seated side by side, come nearer to each other—— LUCY. (_Drawing away_) But that’s the very same thing. BELLAC. (_Bringing her back_) Listen to me; there is the slightest shade of difference. Let me illustrate: they too gaze into each other’s eyes and they too—— LUCY. Well? (_She rises_) BELLAC. (_Making her sit down_) But—but—They are oblivious of physical beauty: it is their souls which commune. They no longer hear each other’s voices, but rather the palpitation of their thoughts! And then, finally, by an entirely different process—though springing from the same source—they too arrive at that obscure and turbulent state of mind in which the being is ignorant even of its own existence—a delicious atrophy of the Will which seems the _summum_ and the _terminus_ of human happiness; they leave the earth to awaken in a free Heaven, for _their_ love transports them far above the murky clouds of earthly passion into the pure Ether of the sublimely Ideal! (_A pause_) PAUL. (_To_ JEANNE) They’re going to kiss! BELLAC. Lucy!! Dear Lucy, don’t you understand? Say that you understand me! LUCY. (_Troubled_) But—it seems to me that these two concepts—— PAUL. Oh, the concepts! That’s too much! LUCY. The two concepts are identical. BELLAC. (_Passionately_) Identical?! Oh, Lucy, you are cruel! Identical! You must understand that in this case it is entirely subjective. PAUL. Subjective! Oh, I say! BELLAC. (_Growing more excited_) Subjective! Lucy! You must understand me! LUCY. (_Greatly moved_) But, Bellac—subjective! JEANNE. (_To_ PAUL) He’ll never kiss her! PAUL. Then I’ll kiss you! JEANNE. (_Defending herself_) Paul! Paul! (_Kisses are heard._) BELLAC _and_ LUCY. (_Getting up, frightened_) What——? DUCHESS. (_Astonished; rising_) What’s this? Are they kissing? LUCY. Someone—someone’s there! BELLAC. Come, take my hand! LUCY. There’s someone listening! I’m sure! BELLAC. Come! LUCY. I’m fearfully compromised! (_She goes out at the back, left_)