MARGARET. Yes--and many more will read it. Clement, you'll be proud--believe me! CLEMENT. You're mistaken, my dear child. I think you have ... Well, what sort of things have you put into it? MARGARET. That's not so easy to explain in one word. The book contains, so to say, the best of what is to be said about things. CLEMENT. Brava! MARGARET. And so I am able to promise you that from this time on I shan't touch a pen. There's no more need. CLEMENT. Margaret, do you love me or not? MARGARET. How can you ask? I love you, and you alone. Much as I have seen, much as I have observed, I have felt nothing--I waited for you. CLEMENT. Then bring it here, your novel. MARGARET. Bring it here? How do you mean? CLEMENT. That you felt you had to write it--may be; but at least no one shall read it. Bring it here--we'll throw it in the fire. MARGARET. Clement ...! CLEMENT. I ask that much of you--I have a right to ask it. MARGARET. Oh, it isn't possible! It's ... CLEMENT. Not possible! When I wish it--when I explain that I make everything else dependent on it ... you understand me ... it may perhaps turn out to be possible. MARGARET. But, Clement, it's already printed. CLEMENT. What--printed? MARGARET. Yes ... in a few days it'll be for sale everywhere. CLEMENT. Margaret ...! And all this without a word to me ... MARGARET. I couldn't help it, Clement. When you see it, you'll forgive me--more than that, you'll be proud of me. CLEMENT. My dear girl, this is past a joke. MARGARET. Clement ...! CLEMENT. Good-by, Margaret. MARGARET. Clement ...! What does this mean? You are going? CLEMENT. As you see. MARGARET. When will you be back? CLEMENT. That I can't at the present moment say. Good-by. MARGARET. Clement ...! (Tries to restrain him.) CLEMENT. If you please ... [Exit.] MARGARET (alone). Clement ...! What does this mean! He's leaving me? Oh, what shall I do?--Clement!--Can he mean that all is over ...? No--it's impossible! Clement! I must follow him ... (Looks about for her hat. The bell rings.) Ah ...he's coming back! He was only trying to frighten me ... Oh, my Clement! (Goes toward door. Enter GILBERT.) GILBERT (to maid, who has opened door for him). I told you I was sure she was at home. Good morning, Margaret. MARGARET (taken aback). You ...? GILBERT. Yes, I--Amandus Gilbert. MARGARET. I ... I'm so surprised ... GILBERT. That is evident. But there's no reason why you should be. I am only passing through--I'm on my way to Italy. And really I've come to see you just for the purpose of bringing you a copy of my latest work in remembrance of our old friendship. (Hands her the book. As she does not take it at once, he lays it on the table.) MARGARET. You're very kind ... thank you. GILBERT. Oh, not at all. You have a certain right to this book. So this is where you live ... MARGARET. Yes. But ...