TOM: No! What came is what holds us together. What came is what saves us
from ever going apart. (_brokenly_) My beautiful one. You--you brave
flower of all our knowing.
CLAIRE: I am not a flower. I am too torn. If you have anything--help me.
Breathe, Breathe the healing oneness, and let me know in calm. (_with a
sob his head rests upon her_)
CLAIRE: (_her hands on his head, but looking far_) Beauty--you pure one
thing. Breathe--Let me know in calm. Then--trouble me, trouble me, for
other moments--in farther calm. (_slow, motionless, barely articulate_)
TOM: (_as she does not move he lifts his head. And even as he looks at
her, she does not move, nor look at him_) Claire--(_his hand out to her,
a little afraid_) You went away from me then. You are away from me now.
CLAIRE: Yes, and I could go on. But I will come back, (_it is hard to
do. She brings much with her_) That, too, I will give you--my
by-myself-ness. That's the uttermost I can give. I never thought--to try
to give it. But let us do it--the great sacrilege! Yes! (_excited, she
rises; she has his hands, and bring him up beside her_) Let us take the
mad chance! Perhaps it's the only way to save--what's there. How do we
know? How can we know? Risk.
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