VASHYA: You see, Doctor? You see?

DR. FRELICH: Yes. I think I see.

VASHYA: How vividly she imagines these things—you see?

DR. FRELICH: I think it would be a good idea if Lady Shontine would come to my office tomorrow morning where we can discuss things more thoroughly. You see these psychoses, Sir Vashya, require a very careful and extensive probing . . .

VASHYA [quickly]: That’s impossible. You’ll have to talk to her here. In my house. You see, in her present condition I can’t very well allow her to leave.

LADY SHONTINE: No, he won’t let me go out! I am his prisoner here! He knows that I know too much. He’s afraid that I will tell. No, Vashya. I won’t tell a thing. It is only the men, the soldiers, that can harm you now!

DR. FRELICH: Lady Shontine, nobody can harm your husband.

VASHYA: Yes, tell her that!

DR. FRELICH: You must put these fears out of your mind—your husband is safe, perfectly safe! Do you understand?

VASHYA: Yes!

LADY SHONTINE: Yes. He is much TOO safe. That is why the soldiers, the dead ones, keep coming back here to see him. They think he is much TOO SAFE!

VASHYA: There—you see!

DR. FRELICH: If we could talk for a while . . .

PHILLIP: Beg pardon, Sir. The Prime Minister wishes to see you.

VASHYA [with satisfaction]: Tell him to wait!

PHILLIP: Yes, Sir.

DR. FRELICH [in surprise]: The Prime Minister—Lord Huntington?

VASHYA: Yes, he comes to see me—Vashya! I told him that I couldn’t go out so he comes here to see me. I don’t go out very much anymore.

LADY SHONTINE: No, he’s afraid to go out.

VASHYA: Afraid? Ridiculous!

DR. FRELICH: You must understand, Lady Shontine, that your husband is a very valuable man to his country. His life must be safeguarded at all costs to his personal convenience.

LADY SHONTINE: Yes. He is the national butcher.

VASHYA [distractedly]: Stop! She’s got to stop saying those things! What will people think if they—?

LADY SHONTINE: They know. It isn’t a secret anymore. The dead men have told them all. They’ve spread the whole story abroad, they’ve shouted it from the rooftops, Vashya. Your name—the national butcher—the butcher of the world! And they won’t stop, Vashya, you can’t make them stop, you can’t—!

VASHYA: Hush, damn you!

DR. FRELICH: Sir Vashya!

LADY SHONTINE [in a frenzy]: No, they won’t stop! They’ll come back for you again tonight and tomorrow night and the night after that! And finally they’ll get you! Yes! YOU SHALL MARCH TO THE FRONT WITH THEM, VASHYA!!

VASHYA: Get out of here, you! Get out of here! [With difficulty he controls himself.] Excuse me, Doctor. I forget sometimes. I’m just a peasant at heart, and she—she drives me crazy! Why do I have to be tortured at a time like this by a woman that’s out of her senses? Doctor, if you can cure her I’ll pay you fifty thousand. Do you hear? A hundred thousand! Only bring her back to her senses. . . .