[Softly, urgently.] Does repentance come too late, now?
[Does not answer, but sits silent for a moment; then she points over the upland.] Look there, Arnold,—now the sun is going down behind the peaks. See what a red glow the level rays cast over all the heathery knolls out yonder.
[Looks where she is pointing.] It is long since I have seen a sunset in the mountains.
Or a sunrise?
A sunrise I don’t think I have ever seen.
[Smiles as though lost in recollection.] I once saw a marvellously lovely sunrise.
Did you? Where was that?
High, high up on a dizzy mountain-top.—You beguiled me up there by promising that I should see all the glory of the world if only I—–
[She stops suddenly.
If only you—? Well?
I did as you told me—went with you up to the heights. And there I fell upon my knees and worshipped you, and served you. [Is silent for a moment; then says softly.] Then I saw the sunrise.
[Turning at him with a scornful smile.] With you—and the other woman?
[Urgently.] With me—as in our days of creation. You could open all that is locked up in me. Can you not find it in your heart, Irene?
[Shaking her head.] I have no longer the key to you, Arnold.
You have the key! You and you alone possess it! [Beseechingly.] Help me—that I may be able to live my life over again!
[Immovable as before.] Empty dreams! Idle—dead dreams. For the life you and I led there is no resurrection.
[Curtly, breaking off.] Then let us go on playing.
Yes, playing, playing—only playing!
[They sit and strew leaves
and petals over the brook, where they
float and sail away.