I am glad if I have reconciled you to existence.
Denham.
You have made me alive again, opened a door to new possibilities,
let me out into the sunshine.
Mrs. Tremaine.
Well, don't go back into the shadow. (_Taking her hat, she goes
towards mirror._)
Denham.
No. I will go forward.
Mrs. Tremaine.
That is right; and now I must go. (_About to take cloak._)
Denham.
No, you must not go yet. Come and sit upon your throne once more.
(_Mrs. Tremaine stops._)
Mrs. Tremaine.
But you are not going to paint again?
Denham.
No. I only want to look at you. Do grant me this last grace! (_He
replaces chair on "throne."_)
Mrs. Tremaine.
(_puts down hat, and crosses L_) Really you are too absurd!
(_She sits on the "throne."_)
Denham.
(_crosses C_) Thanks. And now I want you to read something.
(_Goes to table and takes paper from drawer._)
Mrs. Tremaine.
What must I read?
Denham.
This sonnet.
Mrs. Tremaine.
Your own?
Denham.
Mine--and yours. Read it aloud.
Mrs. Tremaine.
I did not know you were a poet.
Denham.
Every man is a poet once in his life. You have made me one.
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