AMY. [_Pleadingly._] There's only one thing I'd like you to tell me, Henry ... it isn't much. That night we were together ... it was for a moment different to everything that has ever been in your life before, wasn't it? TREBELL. [_Collecting himself as if to explain to a child._] I must make you understand ... I must get you to realise that for a little time to come you're above the law ... above even the shortcomings and contradictions of a man's affection. AMY. But let us have one beautiful memory to share. TREBELL. [_Determined she shall face the cold logic of her position._] Listen. I look back on that night as one looks back on a fit of drunkenness. AMY. [_Neither understanding nor wishing to; only shocked and hurt._] You beast. TREBELL. [_With bitter sarcasm._] No, don't say that. Won't it comfort you to think of drunkenness as a beautiful thing? There are precedents enough ... classic ones. AMY. You mean I might have been any other woman. TREBELL. [_Quite inexorable._] Wouldn't any other woman have served the purpose ... and is it less of a purpose because we didn't know we had it? Does my unworthiness then ... if you like to call it so ... make you unworthy now? I must make you see that it doesn't. AMY. [_Petulantly hammering at her idée fixe._] But you didn't love me ... and you don't love me. TREBELL. [_Keeping his patience._] No ... only within the last five minutes have I really taken the smallest interest in you. And now I believe I'm half jealous. Can you understand that? You've been talking a lot of nonsense about your emotions and your immortal soul. Don't you see it's only now that you've become a person of some importance to the world ... and why? AMY. [_Losing her patience, childishly._] What do you mean by the World? You don't seem to have any personal feelings at all. It's horrible you should have thought of me like that. There has been no other man than you that I would have let come anywhere near me ... not for more than a year. _He realises that she will never understand._ TREBELL. My dear girl, I'm sorry to be brutal. Does it matter so much to you that I should have wished to be the father of your child? AMY. [_Ungracious but pacified by his change of tone._] It doesn't matter now. TREBELL. [_Friendly still._] On principle I don't make promises. But I think I can promise you that if you keep your head and will keep your health, this shall all be made as easy for you as if everyone could know. And let's think what the child may mean to you ... just the fact of his birth. Nothing to me, of course! Perhaps that accounts for the touch of jealousy. I've forfeited my rights because I hadn't honourable intentions. You can't forfeit yours. Even if you never see him and he has to grow up among strangers ... just to have had a child must make a difference to you. Of course, it may be a girl. I wonder. _As he wanders on so optimistically she stares at him and her face changes. She realises...._