Richard
[Looks up.] Is that all?
Bertha
Yes, that's all. Except that he asked me would I meet him.
Richard
Out somewhere?
Bertha
No. In his house.
Richard
[Surprised.] Over there with his mother, is it?
Bertha
No, a house he has. He wrote the address for me.
[She goes to the desk, takes the key from the flower vase, unlocks the drawer and returns to him with the slip of paper.]
Richard
[Half to himself.] Our cottage.
Bertha
[Hands him the slip.] Here.
Richard
[Reads it.] Yes. Our cottage.
Bertha
Your . . .?
Richard
No, his. I call it ours. [Looking at her.] The cottage I told you about so often—that we had the two keys for, he and I. It is his now. Where we used to hold our wild nights, talking, drinking, planning—at that time. Wild nights; yes. He and I together. [He throws the
