 For me, Richard, for me. I will come to you later. Wait in the summer house. Oh, I had begun to think that romance was dead, that I should never know it again. Before, of course, I had my work and my life in the theatre, but now, nothing, nothing. Everything is empty and hollow, like a broken shell. Here, Judith, I apologise for what I did just now. But now you have come and it's all changed.