Rebecca.
[Rises slowly from the sofa; almost voiceless.] Rosmer!
Rosmer.
Yes, Rebecca—that is the question that will for ever haunt me—when you are gone. Every hour in the day it will return upon me. Oh, I seem to see you before my very eyes. You are standing out on the foot-bridge—right in the middle. Now you are bending forward over the railing—drawn dizzily downwards, downwards towards the rushing water! No—you recoil. You have not the heart to do what she dared.
Rebecca.
But if I had the heart to do it? And the will to do it gladly? What then?
Rosmer.
I should have to believe you then. I should recover my faith in my mission. Faith in my power to ennoble human souls. Faith in the human soul's power to attain nobility.
Rebecca.
[Takes up her shawl slowly, and puts it over her head; says with composure.] You shall have your faith again.
Rosmer.
Have you the will and the courage—for this Rebecca?
Rebecca.
That you shall see to-morrow—or afterwards—when they find my body.
