in the previous scene while Marsden is in her father’s place and she stops where she had been. There is a pause. Then just as each of the men is about to speak, she answers as if they had ashed a question]
Nina
[In a queer flat voice]
Yes, he’s dead—my father—whose passion created me—who began me—he is ended. There is only his end living—his death. It lives now to draw nearer me, to draw me nearer, to become my end!
[Then with a strange twisted smile]
How we poor monkeys hide from ourselves behind the sounds called words!
Marsden
[Thinking frightenedly]
How terrible she is! . . . who is she? . . . not my Nina! . . .
[As if to reassure himself—timidly]
Nina!
[Darrell makes an impatient gesture for him to let her go on. What she is saying interests him and he feels talking it out will do her good. She looks at Marsden for a moment startledly as if she couldn’t recognize him]
Nina
What?
[Then placing him—with real affection that is like a galling goad to him]
Dear old Charlie!
