.. not for more than a year.
_He realises that she will never understand._
TREBELL. My dear girl, I'm sorry to be brutal. Does it matter so much to you
that I should have wished to be the father of your child?
AMY. [_Ungracious but pacified by his change of tone._] It doesn't matter
now.
TREBELL. [_Friendly still._] On principle I don't make promises. But I think
I can promise you that if you keep your head and will keep your health, this
shall all be made as easy for you as if everyone could know. And let's
think what the child may mean to you ... just the fact of his birth. Nothing
to me, of course! Perhaps that accounts for the touch of jealousy. I've
forfeited my rights because I hadn't honourable intentions. You can't
forfeit yours. Even if you never see him and he has to grow up among
strangers ... just to have had a child must make a difference to you. Of
course, it may be a girl. I wonder.
_As he wanders on so optimistically she stares at him and her face
changes. She realises...._
AMY. Do you expect me to go through with this? Henry! ... I'd sooner kill
myself.
_There is silence between them. He looks at her as one looks at some
unnatural thing. Then after a moment he speaks, very coldly._
TREBELL. Oh ... indeed. Don't get foolish ideas into your head. You've no
choice now ... no reasonable choice.
AMY.
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