it agrees with many of my observations it becomes most
probable. (The LADY weeps into her handkerchief.) You're weeping again?

LADY. I was thinking of Mizzi. The loveliest thing we ever had is gone.

STRANGER. No. You were the loveliest thing, when you sat all night
watching over your child, who was lying in your bed, because her cradle
was too cold! (Three loud knocks are heard on the ferryman's door.) 'Sh!

LADY. What's that?

STRANGER. My companion, who's waiting for me.

LADY (continuing the conversation). I never thought life would give me
anything so sweet as a child.

STRANGER. And at the same time anything so bitter.

LADY. Why bitter?

STRANGER. You've been a child yourself, and you must remember how we,
when we'd just married, came to your mother in rags, dirty and without
money. I seem to remember she didn't find us very sweet.

LADY. That's true.

STRANGER. And I... well, just now I met Sylvia. And I expected that all
that was beautiful and good in the child would have blossomed in the
girl....

LADY. Well?

STRANGER. I found a faded rose, that seemed to have blown too soon. Her
breasts were sunken, her hair untidy like that of a neglected child, and
her teeth decayed.

LADY. Oh!

STRANGER. You mustn't grieve. Not for the child! You might perhaps have
had to grieve for her later, as I did.

LADY. So that's what life is?

STRANGER. Yes. That's what life is. And that's why I'm going to bury
myself alive.

LADY. Where?

STRANGER (pointing to the monastery). Up there!

LADY. In the monastery? No, don't leave me. Bear me company. I'm so
alone in the world and so poor, so poor! When the child died, my mother
turned me out, and ever since I've been living in an attic with a
dressmaker. At first she was kind and pleasant, but then the lonely
evenings got too long for her, and she went out in search of company--so
we parted. Now I'm on the road, and I've nothing but the clothes I'm
wearing; nothing but my grief. I eat it and drink it; it nourishes me
and sends me to sleep. I'd rather lose anything in the world than that!
(The STRANGER weeps.) You're weeping. You! Let me kiss your eyelids.

STRANGER. You've suffered all that for my sake!

LADY. Not for your sake! You never did me an ill turn; but I plagued you
till you left your fireside and your child!

STRANGER. I'd forgotten that; but if you say so.... So you still love
me?

LADY. Probably. I don't know.

STRANGER. And you'd like