l feelings in me.

ANABEL. So it does in me.--Listen! one can hear the coal-carts on the
road--and the brook--and the dull noise of the town--and the beating of
New London pit--and voices--and the rooks--and yet it is so still. We
seem so still here, don't we?

GERALD. Yes.

ANABEL. Don't you think we've been wrong?

GERALD. How?

ANABEL. In the way we've lived--and the way we've loved.

GERALD. It hasn't been heaven, has it? Yet I don't know that we've been
wrong, Anabel. We had it to go through.

ANABEL. Perhaps.--And, yes, we've been wrong, too.

GERALD. Probably. Only, I don't feel it like that.

ANABEL. Then I think you ought. You ought to feel you've been wrong.

GERALD. Yes, probably. Only, I don't. I can't help it. I think we've
gone the way we had to go, following our own natures.

ANABEL. And where has it landed us?

GERALD. Here.

ANABEL. And where is that?

GERALD. Just on this bench in the park, looking at the evening.

ANABEL. But what next?

GERALD. God knows! Why trouble?

ANABEL. One must trouble. I want to feel sure.

GERALD. What of?

ANABEL. Of you--and of myself.

GERALD. Then BE sure.

ANABEL. But I can't. Think of the past--what it's been.

GERALD. This isn't the past.

ANABEL. But what is it? Is there anything sure in it? Is there any real
happiness?

GERALD. Why not?

ANABEL. But how can you ask? Think of what our life has been.

GERALD. I don't want to.

ANABEL. No, you don't. But what DO you want?

GERALD. I'm all right, you know, sitting here like this.

ANABEL. But one can't sit here forever, can one?

GERALD. I don't want to.

ANABEL. And what will you do when we leave here?

GERALD. God knows! Don't worry me. Be still a bit.

ANABEL. But I'M worried. You don't love me.

GERALD. I won't argue it.

ANABEL. And I'm not happy.

GERALD. Why not, Anabel?

ANABEL. Because you don't love me--and I can't forget.

GERALD. I do love you--and to-night I've forgotten.

ANABEL. Then make me forget, too. Make me happy.

GERALD. I CAN'T make you--and you know it.

ANABEL. Yes, you can. It's your business to make me happy. I've made you
happy.

GERALD. You want to make me unhappy.

ANABEL. I DO think you're the last word in selfishness. If I say I can't
forget, you merely say, "I'VE forgotten"; and if I say I'm unhappy, all
YOU can answer is that I want to make YOU unhappy. I don't in the least.
I want to be happy myself. But you don't help me.