The New Woman Part 44

Nothing--but my love. And I took it away from her. Because she made a few mistakes, and a few people laughed--a few more didn't call--and I mistook a light heart for an empty head. What do all these things matter? what is a man worth who sets such things above a love like hers?

MRS. SYLVESTER.

This is pure pity, Gerald.

GERALD.

Pity for myself.

MRS. SYLVESTER.

She was no wife for you. She could be no companion.

GERALD.

If she was no companion, did I make her one?

MRS. SYLVESTER.

Need you tell _me_ all this?

GERALD.

Yes, Mrs. Sylvester, it's best I should. I came to tell it you.

MRS. SYLVESTER.

Not Agnes now!

GERALD.

Forget my folly, and forget your own.

MRS. SYLVESTER.

Mine was no folly. I, at least, was sincere; the love that isn't based on sympathy is a mere pa.s.sion.

GERALD.

And the love that has no pa.s.sion in it, isn't worth the name!

MRS. SYLVESTER.

That's your idea?

GERALD.

And what is yours? Let us be frank.

MRS. SYLVESTER.

Oh, frankness, by all means.

GERALD.

Forgive me; but we're face to face with truth. Don't let us flinch from it. We have both made the same mistake--not in our marriages, but in despising them. What we want in a partner is what we lack in ourselves. Not sympathy only, but s.e.x. Strength requires gentleness, sweetness asks for light; and all that is womanly in woman wants all that is manly in man. You think your husband is no mate for you. What I have missed in Margery, have you not missed in him?

MRS. SYLVESTER [_after a pause_].

I understand you. It is over.

GERALD.

It is for you to say. We have gone too far together for either of us to turn back alone. I have not only made my own hearth desolate, but yours. I owe you all the reparation I can make. I only want you to know the truth. What is left of my life you may command, but my heart is not mine to bestow.

MRS. SYLVESTER [_turns up, to hide her emotion, and tries to go into the room, L., but half-way she falters and puts out her hand_].

Gerald!

[_He goes to her and offers her his arm. Exeunt GERALD and MRS.

SYLVESTER, L. Other Guests cross the stage. Enter MARGERY, C. Finding herself opposite LADY WARGRAVE'S chair, takes a long look at it, then moves the cus.h.i.+on, and gradually gets into her old position behind it.

Music heard off, softly, during this pa.s.sage._

MARGERY.

Yes, this is how it ought to be. It looks a different world altogether--the real world--the world, when Gerald loved me!

[_Comes down and sits, in a reverie._

_Re-enter SYLVESTER, R._

SYLVESTER.

Alone, Mrs. Cazenove? It isn't often that I find you alone. I've seen nothing of you lately. You've always been out when I've called.

MARGERY.

I was in once.

SYLVESTER.

Only once.

MARGERY.

It was enough.

SYLVESTER.