became a fallen woman. It was soon after that I realized . . . that I had to act quickly. Not for my own protection—I could have borne anything on my own account—but for the sake of your son.
Hans.—Through deceit,—subterfuge . . .
Ann.—A bitter, bitter subterfuge! I had to act as if I really loved the man!
Hans.—You should have waited. You see, it would have come out all right.
Ann.—That’s easy advice today. But, Hans, don’t you really think in your own heart that I did something stronger, and finer than wait? The honor of your professional dynasty is intact; your name is unsullied; your son will one day succeed to the throne of his fathers in dignity and honor.
Hans.—I don’t deny . . .
Ann.—I acted as I did by compulsion, and if I have sinned, my atonement has been bitter enough to satisfy the most exacting deity. For never in all those years I have ceased to love you! Do you hear, Hans? Never!
Hans.—Ann!
Ann.—While you were still supposed to be alive, I thought of you constantly; and the better I loved the more I had to hope that you would never return!
Hans.—So you are sorry we met again on earth?
Julia.—Why will you keep on bruising each other’s hearts!
Ann.—You are mistaken, Julia. It is not my heart speaking now. Last night, when Hans came in, and flung himself on you like a dragon ready to devour you, I guessed what had happened, and my heart cried out once in bitter anguish. Afterwards, when he beheld his real Ann, his face showed such a shock of disappointment that . . .
Julia.—Annie!
Hans.—Forgive me, Ann! There was not the least . . .
Ann (Bracing herself for the lie).—At that moment, I swear, my heart went out like a weak flame. It will never glow again. (Putting off his outstretched arms.) No, Hans! If there is any future life possible for us three, it must be achieved by our breaking every natural human tie woven for us in the past. You must leave your son with me here, and take Julia with you.
Julia.—What’s that you are saying? Are you going mad?
Ann.—What has been written in the stars from the beginning of the world . . .
