possession of real
feeling, why should you hesitate to rain blows on me?

QUEX.

[_Softening, coming to her._] My dear Sidonia, I don't--I don't mean
to--

DUCHESS.

[_Rising, and grasping his hands._] Oh, Harry!

QUEX.

Tsch! please! [_He releases himself and she sinks back upon the settee,
her eyes closed. He regards her uncomfortably for a moment; then, with
some hesitation, he produces from his coat-tail pocket a small box
covered with a pretty brocade, with which he toys uneasily._] You
expressed a wish to leave here on Friday with a sensation of despair at
your heart, Sidonia. If your feeling about our parting is really a deep
one, heaven knows I have no desire to make it more acute--

DUCHESS.

[_Partly opening her eyes._] What is in that box, Harry?

QUEX.

That is just what I was about to--to--[_Lifting the lid and closing
it._] These are the little souvenirs which have passed from you to me at
odd times.

DUCHESS.

[_With reviving interest._] Ah, yes.

QUEX.

I have had no other opportunity--[_Looking about him awkwardly for a
place to deposit the box._] Will you--? shall I--? what the devil's to
become of 'em?

DUCHESS.

[_Sitting upright and passing her hand over her back hair._] Were there
a fire, we could crouch over it and watch the flames consume them one by
one.

QUEX.

But there isn't a fire.

DUCHESS.

[_Rising, and taking the box from him._] Let us examine them.

QUEX.

No, no, no.

DUCHESS.

Yes, yes. [_Opening the box and gazing into it._] Ah, poor little
objects! dead, yet animate; silent, yet, oh, how eloquent! Don't go
away--[_She overturns the contents of the box on to the table. They
stand opposite each other, looking down upon the litter. She picks up a
ring._] A ring--[_thoughtfully_] turquoise and pearl. [_Recollecting._]
Stockholm! You remember--that night you and I sat watching the lights of
the cafe on the Norrbro--!

QUEX.

[_Hastily._] Yes, yes; you've recalled it already to-day.

DUCHESS.

[_Picking up a scarf-pin._] A scarf-pin. Copenhagen! Ah, that pretty
state-room of mine on the _Irene_!

QUEX.

Yes, yes, charming.

DUCHESS.

[_Taking up a locket._] A locket--my name in brilliants. Genoa! Look, it
still contains my hair.

QUEX.

[_Nodding._] H'm, um.

DUCHESS.

[_Taking up a white shoe._] My shoe. Where--?

QUEX.

[_Shaking his head._] I don't--

DUCHESS.

Mentone!

QUEX.

Of course--Mentone.

DUCHESS.

[_Dis