BERTHA. [_Toying with the paper._] Because?
BEATRICE. Because it was my cousin who urged Mr Rowan always to come back. I have that on my conscience.
BERTHA. It should be on Mr Hand’s conscience, should it not?
BEATRICE. [_Uncertainly._] On mine, too. Because—I spoke to my cousin about Mr Rowan when he was away and, to a certain extent, it was I...
BERTHA. [_Nods slowly._] I see. And that is on your conscience. Only that?
BERTHA. [_Almost cheerfully._] It looks as if it was you, Miss Justice, who brought my husband back to Ireland.
BERTHA. Yes, you. By your letters to him and then by speaking to your cousin as you said just now. Do you not think that you are the person who brought him back?
BEATRICE. [_Blushing suddenly._] No. I could not think that.
BERTHA. [_Watches her for a moment; then turning aside._] You know that my husband is writing very much since he came back.
BERTHA. Did you not know? [_She points towards the study._] He passes the greater part of the night in there writing. Night after night.
BERTHA. Study or bedroom. You may call it what you please. He sleeps there, too, on a sofa. He slept there last night. I can show you if you don’t believe me.
[_She rises to go towards the study. Beatrice half rises quickly and makes a gesture of refusal._]
BEATRICE. I believe you, of course, Mrs Rowan, when you tell me.
BERTHA. [_Sitting down again._] Yes. He is writing. And it must be about something which has come into his life lately—since we came back to Ireland. Some change. Do you know that any change has come into his life? [_She looks searchingly at her._] Do you know it or feel it?
BEATRICE. [_Answers her look steadily._] Mrs Rowan, that is not a question to ask me. If any change has come into his life since he came back you must know and feel it.
BERTHA. You could know it just as well. You are very intimate in this house.
BEATRICE. I am not the only person who is intimate here.
[_They both look at each other coldly in silence for some moments. Bertha lays aside the paper and sits down on a chair nearer to Beatrice._]
BERTHA. [_Placing her hand on Beatrice’s knee._] So you also hate me, Miss Justice?
BEATRICE. [_With an effort._] Hate you? I?
BERTHA. [_Insistently but softly._] Yes. You know what it means to hate a person?