[A gust of wind blows in through the porch, with a sound of shaken leaves. The flame of the lamp leaps.]
Bertha
[Pointing to the lamp.] Look!
Robert
Only wind. We have light enough from the other room.
[He stretches his hand across the table and puts out the lamp. The light from the doorway of the bedroom crosses the place where they sit. The room is quite dark.]
Robert
Are you happy? Tell me.
Bertha
I am going now, Robert. It is very late. Be satisfied.
Robert
[Caressing her hair.] Not yet, not yet. Tell me, do you love me a little?
Bertha
I like you, Robert. I think you are good. [Half rising.] Are you satisfied?
Robert
[Detaining her, kisses her hair.] Do not go, Bertha! There is time still. Do you love me too? I have waited a long time. Do you love us both—him and also me? Do you, Bertha? The truth! Tell me. Tell me with your eyes. Or speak!
[She does not answer. In the silence the rain is heard falling.]
