Too much, Mary, too much. Egypt was coming between us.
Mrs. Lattin
Your work there, the great work I have ruined … ! Egypt meant home to you.
Phillip
Home is where you are, dearest, and nowhere else. You have taught me this—in time. (To himself.) Egypt! Ah, Egypt!
Mrs. Lattin
I hate it. It terrifies me. There is pain for me in Egypt. An instinctive dread comes over me always—something from very far away. I have struggled against it, for your sake, but—oh, it’s so, so strong. If only you could forgive me——!
Phillip
Hush, dearest!
Mrs. Lattin
But it has come between us. You love it so. And it’s my fault that you can’t—your career, I mean——
Phillip
Dear one, whatever is, is right. There is nothing to regret. Egypt, indeed, has drawn me strangely. There is some power out there—a spiritual power—that has cast a glamour over me. It has been a passion with me.
Mrs. Lattin
My instinctive terror!
Phillip
And my instinctive love!
[They glance together in silence at a great picture above the bed—an Egyptian night-scene, with stars and Nile.
Yes … yes … strange indeed! From my earliest days it drew me. Those palms and temples, that majestic desert——!
Mrs. Lattin
Phillip, don’t! Those stars, that river bring me sadness—immense regret. I feel them always rising over me. They watch me!
Phillip
Forgive me. It was the marvellous beauty took me. I——
Mrs. Lattin
But it’s an unearthly beauty. And something in it—lost. It’s lost to you. And I—oh, but I do love you so; for ever and ever you are mine—aren’t you?
[He stoops and kisses her. She half rises, whispering:
Phillip, dearest—something strange comes over me. I see a lifting of this heavy English sky. I have been through this before—I have done this very thing before—long, long ago—injured you somehow! Oh, Phillip, can it be that we have lived before—pre-existence—is it true? (Sinks back.) I think … I think I must be near to … death!
Phillip
Hush, hush, my darling. These are sick fancies only. Your brain is tired. We must not talk like this.
Mrs. Lattin
I am tired, yes; but it is my soul that aches and not my body. Phillip, I want your forgiveness.
Phillip
There is nothing to forgive. I love you.
Mrs. Lattin
(Spiritually tortured and perplexed.) I want your real forgiveness—before I go. I have been suffering deeply, deeply. Curtains have been rising. I almost see. Something seems growing clearer to me. I’ve done wrong somewhere! Why have I pulled against you all these years—against your work? It cannot be my love that is at fault. You’re wholly mine—and yet I want your forgiveness somehow——
Phillip
(Deep patience.) All the love and forgiveness in the world I give you, Little Child. But you ask for what was always yours.
Mrs. Lattin
Your broken mission. You alone have the strength and patience Egypt needs. I have ruined all, all, all!
Phillip
There! I forgive you, then. (Kisses her.) I forgive you all, all, all. But please calm yourself. This excitement does you harm. You torment yourself for nothing. It is I who have been, and am, the egoist. All men who think their work is a mission are shameless egoists.
Mrs. Lattin
Thank you, Phillip, for this great gift of your forgiveness. But it is not enough. I want to understand—and so forgive myself.
Phillip
You must rest now a little. It was criminal of me to let you talk so much. No, not another word. I’ll leave you for a bit. You must be calm to see the Doctor. It’s nearly six——
Mrs. Lattin
Dr. Ogilvie can’t help me.
Phillip
What! The first man of the day! His wonderful cures——
Mrs. Lattin
He cures the body only. I need a soul physician. Oh, Phillip, I believe sometimes my yearning must bring him to me.
Phillip
My darling, it is your body alone that is ill. Your suffering gives you these strange fancies.
Mrs. Lattin
You love me too well to understand. (Sighs.) My illness is not only of the body. Now, leave me, dearest. I wish to see him quite alone.
Phillip
Little Child, you shall. You can dismiss the nurse. (Glances at clock.) It is close on six.
Mrs. Lattin
Kiss me. (He kisses her softly and goes out.) If only—ah, if only my great yearning. …
[She lies back exhausted. Sighs. Covers her face with her hands. After a moment she uncovers her face and half sits up again. She stares hard at Egyptian picture on the wall.
The fault lies in my soul, and it comes first from there—from Egypt. The river is rising, rising once again. The stars are rising too. They watch me, and they wait. They’re always watching us. O God! If only some one could make me understand! If some great doctor of the soul … ! (Sinks back. Her eyes close. She lies very still.)
[A big clock on the mantelpiece strikes the first three strokes of six o’clock, then stops. The door opens slowly and a man enters quietly. He looks round the room, sees her on the sofa apparently asleep, and stands still, a few feet inside the door. He looks steadily at her a moment, then glances at the picture of Egypt on the wall. He smiles gently. His figure is a little bent, perhaps. He is not a big man with any marked presence. As he smiles, she opens her eyes and sees him. She shows surprise and slight embarrassment.
