quip like that makes you forget me.

GREGORY. Forget you! Oh, if I only could!

MRS. JUNO. If you could, would you?

GREGORY [burying his shamed face in his hands]. No: I'd die first. Oh,
I hate myself.

MRS. JUNO. I glory in myself. It's so jolly to be reckless. CAN a man
be reckless, I wonder.

GREGORY [straightening himself desperately]. No. I'm not reckless. I
know what I'm doing: my conscience is awake. Oh, where is the
intoxication of love? the delirium? the madness that makes a man think
the world well lost for the woman he adores? I don't think anything of
the sort: I see that it's not worth it: I know that it's wrong: I have
never in my life been cooler, more businesslike.

MRS. JUNO. [opening her arms to him] But you can't resist me.

GREGORY. I must. I ought [throwing himself into her arms]. Oh, my
darling, my treasure, we shall be sorry for this.

MRS. JUNO. We can forgive ourselves. Could we forgive ourselves if we
let this moment slip?

GREGORY. I protest to the last. I'm against this. I have been pushed
over a precipice. I'm innocent. This wild joy, this exquisite
tenderness, this ascent into heaven can thrill me to the uttermost
fibre of my heart [with a gesture of ecstasy she hides her face on his
shoulder]; but it can't subdue my mind or corrupt my conscience, which
still shouts to the skies that I'm not a willing party to this
outrageous conduct. I repudiate the bliss with which you are filling me.

MRS. JUNO. Never mind your conscience. Tell me how happy you are.

GREGORY. No, I recall you to your duty. But oh, I will give you my life
with both hands if you can tell me that you feel for me one millionth
part of what I feel for you now.

MRS. JUNO. Oh, yes, yes. Be satisfied with that. Ask for no more. Let
me go.

GREGORY. I can't. I have no will. Something stronger than either of us
is in command here. Nothing on earth or in heaven can part us now. You
know that, don't you?

MRS. JUNO. Oh, don't make me say it. Of course I know. Nothing--not
life nor death nor shame nor anything can part us.

A MATTER-OF-FACT MALE VOICE IN THE CORRIDOR. All right. This must be it.

The two recover with a violent start; release one another; and spring
back to opposite sides of the lounge.

GREGORY. That did it.

MRS. JUNO [in a thrilling whisper] Sh--sh--sh! That was my husband's
voice.

GREGORY. Impossible: it's only our guilty fancy.

A WOMAN'S VOICE. This is the way to the lounge. I know i