. I tell you that, if he were, the greatest man of his time would
one day call you grandam.

MISTRESS FAWCETT (rising with energy). Hark ye, Rachael! Calm yourself!
You have had your hour of wildness. I understand your mood--the relief,
the delight to give to the storm what you cannot give to Hamilton. But
enough! I can stand no more. I am old. My heart is nearly worn out. If
the storm unnerves me, I am undone.

RACHAEL. Very well, mother. I will put my soul back in its coffin--if I
can. This is a favorable moment. There is a lull.

MISTRESS FAWCETT (she seats herself again). Come here, Rachael.
(Rachael, who has apparently calmed herself, approaches and stands
beside her mother. She tenderly rearranges the old woman's hair, which
fell from her cap during her struggle with the blind.) Rachael, these
hours, I repeat, may be our last on earth. This house is old. The
hurricane may uproot it. Like you, I am not afraid to die. Indeed, I
should welcome death to-night if I could take you with me. Bitterer than
any pain has been the thought of leaving you alone in the world. I am
glad you have broken the silence you imposed. I never could have broken
it. I ask you now to forgive me, and I acknowledge that I alone was
responsible for the tragedy of your married life. That I was deceived is
no excuse. I am reckoned more astute than most. I should have known that
behind that white and purring exterior was a cruel and hideous
voluptuary. But I had known Danes all my life, and respected them, and
you were the child of my old age. I knew that I had not long to live.
But I am not making excuses. I ask you humbly to forgive me.

RACHAEL. Forgive you! I have been bred in philosophy, and I have always
loved you perfectly.

MISTRESS FAWCETT. Ah! I did not know. Until to-night you have been so
reticent. And silent people think--think--

RACHAEL. I have thought, but never to blame you. And what is past is
past. I waste no time on what cannot be undone. The soul must have its
education, and part of that is to be torn up by the roots, trampled,
beaten, crucified. Let me hope that, having had that course at the
beginning of my life, I have had it once for all.

MISTRESS FAWCETT. There are worse things than a loveless marriage with a
brute. One is to love a man you cannot marry, and be cast aside by him,
while your heart is still alive with the love he has sloughed off like
an old skin that has begun to chafe. And then, without friends--