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ROSMER.
[Takes up his hat.] Yes, come. Let us go together.
Rebecca.
No, dear, I can't just now. You must go alone. But shake off all these gloomy thoughts. Promise me.
Rosmer.
I am afraid I shall never shake them off.
Rebecca.
Oh, that such baseless fancies should take so strong a hold of you!
Rosmer.
Not so baseless I am afraid, Rebecca. I lay awake all night thinking it over and over. Perhaps Beata saw clearly after all.
Rebecca. In what?
Rosmer. In her belief that I loved you, Rebecca.
Rebecca. Right in that!
Rosmer.
[Lays his hat down on the table.] The question that haunts me is this: were we two not deceiving ourselves all the time—when we called our relation friendship?
Rebecca.
You mean that it might as well have been called?
