Fires of St. John - BestLightNovel.com
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Marie.
Did I, George?
George.
'Tis hardly necessary to remind you of all the indignities you heaped upon me. It almost seemed to me as if you purposely intended to drive me mad. Do you remember the day when I followed you into the cellar, and you turned and ran out and locked the door, and compelled me to remain there all night?
Marie.
[_Smiling_.] Yes, I remember!
George.
Why did you do that?
Marie.
That is very simple. You are Count von Harten--and I?--I am but a poor Lithuanian foundling--aye, worse than that. If you follow such a one into the cellar, she knows, or at least thinks she knows, your purpose.
George.
So, that was the reason! And at the same time you went under your manzanillo-tree to die?
Marie.
[_Nods_.]
George.
And did you never realize the real state of things? Gertrude was then still a child--and because I could not win you, I took her. Did that thought never occur to you?
Marie.
How could I ever dare to think that?
George.
But later?
Marie.
The day before yesterday, when I read your book, I felt it for the first time.
George.
And now, it is too late----
Marie.
Yes, now it is too late! Had I felt then as I do now, I would not have resisted you----
George.
Marie, do you know what you are saying?
Marie.
[_Breaking out_.] Oh I don't care, I don't care! It is my fate. You must rule and govern--and I--I must serve; and in the end--we both must die----
George.
Marie, you should be loved, you must be loved--beyond all senses--loved beyond all measure!
Marie.
[_Pointing towards R_.] He loves me!
George.
He?--Bah!!!
Marie.
Don't be angry, George dear; you don't dare love me yourself. You can never be anything to me!
George.
No, never; for this house must be kept clean. No, no, this house must not be soiled. We would both suffocate in our shame. But we can think of what might have been; that is not sin, is it?
Marie.
What were your words? "They are the wild birds of paradise, that have escaped us." That was it, was it not? How beautiful!
George.
I don't remember!
Marie.
But I am not a wild bird, George; I am tame--so tame----
George.
You are tame?
Marie.
For you, George dear, only for you!!!
