FLORA He is already married, otherwise he might.

DAS Oh my goodness. How different things are. Here, you see, your sister would have been cast out—for bringing shame on her father’s house. (Flora snorts.) Yes—perhaps we are not so enlightened as you.

FLORA Yes, perhaps. Well, you have had your cigarette. Are we going to continue?

DAS No, not today.

FLORA I’ll go back to my poem.

DAS There is no need.

FLORA Well, I’ll copy out my poem for my sister. I do that for safe keeping, you see. I’m sending her the drawing you did of me at the lecture.

DAS (Pause) I have an appointment I had forgotten.

FLORA Oh.

DAS Actually you musn’t feel obliged …

He begins gathering together his paraphernalia, apparently in a hurry now.

FLORA What have I done?

DAS Done? What should you have done?

FLORA Stop it. Please. Stop being Indian.

DAS (Pause) You have looked at the portrait, Miss Crewe?

FLORA Oh, I see. Yes, yes … I did look.

DAS Yes.

FLORA I had a peep. Why not? You wanted me to.

DAS Yes, why not? You looked at the painting and you decided to spend the time writing letters. Why not?

FLORA I’m sorry.

DAS You still have said nothing about the painting.

FLORA I know.

DAS I cannot continue today.

FLORA I understand. Will we try again tomorrow?

DAS Tomorrow is Sunday.

FLORA The next day.

DAS Perhaps I cannot continue at all.

FLORA Oh. And all because I said nothing. Are you at the mercy of every breeze that blows? Are you an artist at all?

DAS Perhaps not! A mere sketcher—a hack painter who should be working in the bazaar!

He snatches up the ‘pencil sketch’ from under Flora’s hand.

FLORA (Realizing his intention) Stop it!

Das tears the paper in half.

DAS Or in chalks on the ghat!

FLORA Stop! (But Das tears the paper again, and again and again, until it is in small pieces) I’m ashamed of you!

DAS Excuse me, please! I wish to leave. I will take the canvas—

FLORA You will not!

It become a physical tussle. A struggle. She begins to gasp.

DAS You need not see it again!

FLORA You will not take anything! We will continue!

DAS I do not want to continue, Miss Crewe. Please let go!

FLORA I won’t let you give up!

DAS Let go, damn you, someone will see us!

FLORA —and stop crying! You’re not a baby!

DAS (Fighting her) I will cry if I wish!

FLORA Cry, then, but you will finish what you started! How else will you ever … Oh!

And suddenly Flora is helpless, gasping for breath.

DAS Oh … oh, Miss Crewe—oh my God—let me help you. I’m sorry. Please. Here, sit down—

She has had an attack of breathlessness. He helps her to a chair. Flora speaks with difficulty.

FLORA Really, I’m all right. (Pause. She takes careful breaths.) There.

DAS What happened?

FLORA I’m not allowed to wrestle with people. It’s a considerable nuisance. My lungs are bad, you see.