They look on me now as
their leader. Am I to desert them? When you led your forlorn hope--
did you ask yourself what good you were doing, or, whether you'd come
through alive? It's my forlorn hope not to betray those who are
following me; and not to help let die a fire--a fire that's sacred--
not only now in this country, but in all countries, for all time.
SIR JOHN. [After a long stare] I give you credit for believing what
you say. But let me tell you whatever that fire you talk of--I'm too
old-fashioned to grasp--one fire you are letting die--your wife's
love. By God! This crew of your new friends, this crew of cranks
and jays, if they can make up to you for the loss of her love--of
your career, of all those who used to like and respect you--so much
the better for you. But if you find yourself bankrupt of affection--
alone as the last man on earth; if this business ends in your utter
ruin and destruction--as it must--I shall not pity--I cannot pity
you. Good-night!
He marches to the door, opens it, and goes out. MORE is left
standing perfectly still. The stir and murmur of the street is
growing all the time, and slowly forces itself on his
consciousness. He goes to the bay window and looks out; then
rings the bell. It is not answered, and, after turning up the
lights, he rings again. KATHERINE comes in. She is wearing a
black hat, and black outdoor coat. She speaks coldly without
looking up.
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