Yes.

[Looking towards the door on the right.] Where is he?

Gone. [Nervously.] You startled me. Where did you come from?

[With a movement of his head.] Out there. Did he not tell you I was out there—waiting?

[Quickly.] Yes, he told me. But I was afraid here alone. With the door open, waiting. [She comes to the table and rests her hand on the corner.] Why do you stand like that in the doorway?

Why? I am afraid too?

Of what?

Of you.

[Looks down.] Do you hate me now?

I fear you. [Clasping his hands at his back, quietly but a little defiantly.] I fear a new torture—a new trap.

[As before.] For what do you blame me?

[Comes forward a few steps, halts: then impulsively.]