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 slip on the couch and rises suddenly.) And sometimes I alone. (Stares at her.) But not quite alone. I told you. You remember?

BERTHA

(Shocked.) That place?

RICHARD

(Walks away from her a few paces and stands still, thinking, holding his chin.) Yes.

BERTHA

(Taking up the slip again.) Where is it?

RICHARD

Do you not know?

BERTHA

He told me to take the tram at Lansdowne Road and to ask the man to let me down there. Is it... is it a bad place?

RICHARD

O no, cottages. (He returns to the lounge and sits down.) What answer did you give?

BERTHA

No answer. He said he would wait.

RICHARD

Tonight?

BERTHA

Every night, he said. Between eight and nine.

RICHARD

And so I am to go tonight to interview-- the professor. About the appointment I am to beg for. (Looking at her.) The interview is arranged for tonight by him-- between eight and nine. Curious, isn't it? The same hour.

BERTHA

Very.

RICHARD

Did he ask you had I any suspicion?

BERTHA

No.

RICHARD

Did he mention my name?

BERTHA

No.

RICHARD

Not once?

BERTHA

Not that I remember.

RICHARD

(Bounding to his feet.) O yes! Quite clear!

BERTHA

What?

RICHARD

(Striding to and fro.) A liar, a thief, and a fool! Quite clear! A common thief! What else? (With a harsh laugh.) My great friend! A patriot too! A thief-- nothing else! (He halts, thrusting his hands into his pockets.) But a fool also!

BERTHA

(Looking at him.) What are you going to do?

RICHARD

(Shortly.) Follow him. Find him. Tell him. (Calmly.) A few words will do. Thief and fool.

BERTHA

(Flings the slip on the couch.) I see it all!

RICHARD

(Turning.) Eh!

BERTHA

(Hotly.) The work of a devil.

RICHARD

He?

BERTHA

(Turning on him.) No, you! The work of a devil to turn him against me as you tried to turn my own child against me. Only you did not succeed.

RICHARD

How? In God's name, how?

BERTHA

(Excitedly.) Yes, yes. What I say. Everyone saw it. Whenever I tried to correct him for the least thing you went on with your folly, speaking to him as if he were a grownup man. Ruining the poor child, or trying to. Then, of course, I was the cruel mother and only you loved him.