Rebecca. I believe she may have understood me so.
Rosmer.
Yes, yes—and in everything she bowed before your will. And she did efface herself! [Springs up.] How could you—how could you play this ghastly game!
Rebecca.
It seemed to me I had to choose between your life and hers, Rosmer.
Kroll.
[Severely and impressively.] That choice was not for you to make.
Rebecca.
[Vehemently.] You think then that I was cool and calculating and self-possessed all the time! I was not the same woman then that I am now, as I stand here telling it all. Besides, there are two sorts of will in us I believe! I wanted Beata away, by one means or another; but I never really believed that it would come to pass. As I felt my way forward, at each step I ventured, I seemed to hear something within me cry out: No farther! Not a step farther! And yet I could not stop. I had to venture the least little bit farther. Only one hair's-breadth more. And then one more—and always one more.—And then it happened.—That is the way such things come about.
[A short silence.
Rosmer
[To Rebecca.] What do you think lies before you now? After this?
