LOUIS. Jennifer.

MRS DUBEDAT. Yes, dear.

LOUIS [with a strange look of delight] Do you remember the burning bush?

MRS DUBEDAT. Yes, Yes. Oh, my dear, how it strains my heart to remember
it now!

LOUIS. Does it? It fills me with joy. Tell them about it.

MRS DUBEDAT. It was nothing--only that once in my old Cornish home we
lit the first fire of the winter; and when we looked through the window
we saw the flames dancing in a bush in the garden.

LOUIS. Such a color! Garnet color. Waving like silk. Liquid lovely flame
flowing up through the bay leaves, and not burning them. Well, I shall
be a flame like that. I'm sorry to disappoint the poor little worms; but
the last of me shall be the flame in the burning bush. Whenever you see
the flame, Jennifer, that will be me. Promise me that I shall be burnt.

MRS DUBEDAT. Oh, if I might be with you, Louis!

LOUIS. No: you must always be in the garden when the bush flames. You
are my hold on the world: you are my immortality. Promise.

MRS DUBEDAT. I'm listening. I shall not forget. You know that I promise.

LOUIS. Well, thats about all; except that you are to hang my pictures at
the one-man show. I can trust your eye. You wont let anyone else touch
them.

MRS DUBEDAT. You can trust me.

LOUIS. Then theres nothing more to worry about, is there? Give me some
more of that milk. I'm fearfully tired; but if I stop talking I shant
begin again. [Sir Ralph gives him a drink. He takes it and looks up
quaintly]. I say, B. B., do you think anything would stop you talking?

B. B. [almost unmanned] He confuses me with you, Paddy. Poor fellow!
Poor fellow!

LOUIS [musing] I used to be awfully afraid of death; but now it's come I
have no fear; and I'm perfectly happy. Jennifer.

MRS DUBEDAT. Yes, dear?

LOUIS. I'll tell you a secret. I used to think that our marriage was all
an affectation, and that I'd break loose and run away some day. But
now that I'm going to be broken loose whether I like it or not, I'm
perfectly fond of you, and perfectly satisfied because I'm going to live
as part of you and not as my troublesome self.

MRS DUBEDAT [heartbroken] Stay with me, Louis. Oh, dont leave me,
dearest.

LOUIS. Not that I'm selfish. With all my faults I dont think Ive ever
been really selfish. No artist can: Art is too large for that. You will
marry again, Jennifer.

MRS DUBEDAT. Oh, how can you, Louis?

LOUIS [insisting childishly] Yes, because people who have found m