Then I will go and see him myself, and tell him that a
certain letter, written on pink paper, is to be forwarded to Robert
to-day, and that at all costs it must not reach him. [Goes to the
door, and opens it.] Oh! Robert is coming upstairs with the letter
in his hand. It has reached him already.
LADY CHILTERN. [With a cry of pain.] Oh! you have saved his life;
what have you done with mine?
[Enter SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. He has the letter in his hand, and is
reading it. He comes towards his wife, not noticing LORD GORING'S
presence.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. 'I want you. I trust you. I am coming to you.
Gertrude.' Oh, my love! Is this true? Do you indeed trust me, and
want me? If so, it was for me to come to you, not for you to write
of coming to me. This letter of yours, Gertrude, makes me feel that
nothing that the world may do can hurt me now. You want me,
Gertrude?
[LORD GORING, unseen by SIR ROBERT CHILTERN, makes an imploring sign
to LADY CHILTERN to accept the situation and SIR ROBERT'S error.]
LADY CHILTERN. Yes.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. You trust me, Gertrude?
LADY CHILTERN. Yes.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Ah! why did you not add you loved me?
LADY CHILTERN. [Taking his hand.] Because I loved you.
[LORD GORING passes into the conservatory.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Kisses her.] Gertrude, you don't know what I
feel. When Montford passed me your letter across the table - he had
opened it by mistake, I suppose, without looking at the handwriting
on the envelope - and I read it - oh! I did not care what disgrace or
punishment was in store for me, I only thought you loved me still.
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