Exiles

was for you. Bertha Confused. I am not worthy even of that. Robert Clearly, harshly. Love’s labour lost. Bertha Rising nervously. Robert! Robert Yes? Bertha Come here, quickly! Quickly, I say! Robert I am ready. He appears in the doorway, wearing a darkgreen velvet jacket. Seeing her agitation, he comes quickly towards her. Robert What is it, Bertha? Bertha Trembling. I was afraid. Robert Of being alone? Bertha Catches his hands. You know what I mean. My nerves are all upset. Robert That I⁠ ⁠… ? Bertha Promise me, Robert, not to think of such a thing. Never. If you like me at all. I thought that moment⁠ ⁠… Robert What an idea? Bertha But promise me if you like me. Robert If I like you, Bertha! I promise. Of course, I promise. You are trembling all over. Bertha Let me sit down somewhere. It will pass in a moment. Robert My poor Bertha! Sit down. Come. He leads her towards a chair near the table. She sits down. He stands beside her. Robert After a short pause. Has it passed? Bertha Yes. It was only for a moment. I was very silly. I was afraid that⁠ ⁠… I wanted to see you near me. Robert That⁠ ⁠… that you made me promise not to think of? Bertha Yes. Robert Keenly. Or something else? Bertha Helplessly. Robert, I feared something. I am not sure what. Robert And now? Bertha Now you are here. I can see you. Now it has passed. Robert With resignation. Passed. Yes. Love’s labour lost. Bertha Looks up at him. Listen, Robert. I want to explain to you about that. I could not deceive Dick. Never. In nothing. I told him everything⁠—from the first. Then it went on and on; and still you never spoke or asked me. I wanted you to. Robert Is that the truth, Bertha? Bertha Yes, because it annoyed me that you could think I was like⁠ ⁠… like the other women I suppose you knew that way. I think that Dick is right too. Why should there be secrets? Robert Softly. Still, secrets can be very sweet. Can they not? Bertha Smiles. Yes, I know they can. But, you see, I could not keep things secret from Dick. Besides, what is the good? They always come out in the end. Is it not better for people to know? Robert Softly and a little shyly. How could you, Bertha, tell him everything? Did you? Every single thing that passed between us? Bertha Yes. Everything he asked me. Robert Did he ask you⁠—much? Bertha You know the kind he is. He asks about everything. The ins and outs. Robert About our kissing, too? Bertha Of course. I told him all. Robert Shakes his head slowly. Extraordinary little person! Were you not ashamed? Bertha No. Robert Not a bit? Bertha No. Why? Is that terrible? Robert And how did he take it? Tell me. I want to know everything, too. Bertha Laughs. It excited him. More than usual. Robert Why? Is he excitable⁠—still? Bertha Archly. Yes, very. When he is not lost in his philosophy. Robert More than I? Bertha More than you? Reflecting. How could I answer that? You both are, I suppose? Robert turns aside and gazes towards the porch, passing his hand once or twice thoughtfully over his hair. Bertha Gently. Are you angry with me again? Robert Moodily. You are with me. Bertha No, Robert. Why should I be? Robert Because I asked you to come to this place. I tried to prepare it for you. He points vaguely here and there. A sense of quietness. Bertha Touching his jacket with her fingers. And this, too. Your nice velvet coat. Robert Also. I will keep no secrets from you. Bertha You remind me of someone in a picture. I like you in it⁠ ⁠… But you are not angry, are you? Robert Darkly. Yes. That was my mistake. To ask you to come here. I felt it when I looked at you from the garden and saw you⁠—you, Bertha⁠—standing here. Hopelessly. But what else could I have done? Bertha Quietly. You mean because others have been here? Robert Yes. He walks away from her a few paces. A gust of wind makes the lamp on the table flicker. He lowers the wick slightly. Bertha Following him with her eyes. But I knew that before I came. I am not angry with you for it. Robert Shrugs his shoulders. Why should you be angry with me after all? You are not even angry with him⁠—for the same thing⁠—or worse. Bertha Did he tell you that about himself? Robert Yes. He told me. We all confess to one another here. Turn about. Bertha I try to forget it. Robert It does not trouble you? Bertha Not now. Only I dislike to think of it. Robert It is merely something brutal, you think? Of little importance? Bertha It does not trouble me⁠—now. Robert Looking at her over his shoulder. But there is something that would trouble you very much and that you would not try to forget? Bertha What? Robert Turning towards her. If it were not only something brutal with this person or that⁠—for a few moments. If it were something fine and spiritual⁠—with one person only⁠—with one woman. Smiles. And perhaps brutal too. It usually comes to that sooner or later. Would you try to forget and forgive that? Bertha Toying with her wristlet. In whom? Robert In anyone. In me. Bertha Calmly. You mean in Dick. Robert I said in myself. But would you? Bertha You think I would revenge myself? Is Dick not to be free too? Robert Points at her. That is not from your heart, Bertha. Bertha Proudly. Yes, it is; let him be free too. He leaves me free also. Robert Insistently. And you know why? And understand? And you like it? And you want to be? And it makes you happy? And has made you happy? Always? This gift of freedom which he gave you⁠—nine years ago? Bertha Gazing at him with wide open eyes. But why do you ask me such a lot of questions, Robert? Robert Stretches out both hands to her. Because I had another gift to offer you then⁠—a common