CLAIRE:  And even you think this is so important? (carelessly raises the revolver, and with her left hand out flat, tells TOM not to touch her) Harry thinks it important he shoot Dick, and Dick thinks it important not to be shot, and you think I mustn’t shoot anybody—­even myself—­and can’t any of you see that none of that is as important as—­where revolvers can’t reach? (putting revolver where there is no Edge Vine) I shall never shoot myself.  I’m too interested in destruction to cut it short by shooting. (after looking from one to the other, laughs.  Pointing) One—­two—­three.  You-love-me.  But why do you bring it out here?

ANTHONY:  (who has resumed work) It is not what this place is for.

CLAIRE:  No this place is for the destruction that can get through.

ANTHONY:  Miss Claire, it is eleven.  At eleven we are to go in and see—­

CLAIRE:  Whether it has gone through.  But how can we go—­with Dick against the door?

ANTHONY:  He’ll have to move.

CLAIRE:  And be shot?

HARRY:  (irritably) Oh, he’ll not be shot.  Claire can spoil anything.

(DICK steps away from the door; CLAIRE takes a step nearer it.)

CLAIRE:  (halting) Have I spoiled everything?  I don’t want to go in there.

ANTHONY:  We’re going in together, Miss Claire.  Don’t you remember?  Oh (looking resentfully at the others) don’t let any little thing spoil it for you—­the work of all those days—­the hope of so many days.

CLAIRE:  Yes—­that’s it.

ANTHONY:  You’re afraid you haven’t done it?

CLAIRE:  Yes, but—­afraid I have.

HARRY:  (cross, but kindly) That’s just nervousness, Claire.  I’ve had the same feeling myself about making a record in flying.

CLAIRE:  (curiously grateful) You have, Harry?

HARRY:  (glad enough to be back in a more usual world) Sure.  I’ve been afraid to know, and almost as afraid of having done it as of not having done it.

(CLAIRE nods, steps nearer, then again pulls back.)

CLAIRE:  I can’t go in there. (she almost looks at TOM) Not today.

ANTHONY:  But, Miss Claire, there’ll be things to see today we can’t see tomorrow.

CLAIRE:  You bring it in here!

ANTHONY:  In—­out from its own place? (she nods) And—­where they are? (again she nods.  Reluctantly he goes to the door) I will not look into the heart.  No one must know before you know.

(In the inner room, his head a little turned away, he is seen very carefully to lift the plant which glows from within.  As he brings it in, no one looks at it.  HARRY takes a box of seedlings from a stand and puts them on the floor, that the newcomer may have a place.)

ANTHONY:  Breath of Life is here, Miss Claire.

(CLAIRE half turns, then stops.)