Then what are we going to do?
GERALD. Do?
ANABEL. Do you want me to be with you?
GERALD. Yes.
ANABEL. Are you sure?
GERALD. Yes.
ANABEL. Then why don't you want me to be happy?
GERALD. If you'd only BE happy, here and now---
ANABEL. How can I?
GERALD. How can't you?--You've got a devil inside you.
ANABEL. Then make me not have a devil.
GERALD. I've know you long enough--and known myself long enough--to
know I can make you nothing at all, Anabel: neither can you make me.
If the happiness isn't there--well, we shall have to wait for it,
like a dispensation. It probably means we shall have to hate each
other a little more.--I suppose hate is a real process.
ANABEL. Yes, I know you believe more in hate than in love.
GERALD. Nobody is more weary of hate than I am--and yet we can't fix
our own hour, when we shall leave off hating and fighting. It has to
work itself out in us.
ANABEL. But I don't WANT to hate and fight with you any more. I
don't BELIEVE in it--not any more.
GERALD. It's a cleansing process--like Aristotle's Katharsis. We
shall hate ourselves clean at last, I suppose.
ANABEL. Why aren't you clean now? Why can't you love? (He laughs.)
DO you love me?
GERALD. Yes.
ANABEL. Do you want to be with me for ever?
GERALD. Yes.
ANABEL. Sure?
GERALD. Quite sure.
ANABEL. Why are you so cool about it?
GERALD.
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