FREDERIK.  The circus left town days ago.  You must have been dreaming.

WILLIAM.  The band’s playing now.  Don’t you hear it, sir?  The procession’s passing. [He runs to the window and opens it.  The music stops.  A breeze sweeps through the room—­bellies out the curtains and causes the lustres to jingle on the mantel.  Surprised.] No.  It’s almost dark.  There’s no procession ... no shining horses.... [Turning sadly away from the window.] I wonder what made me think the—­I must have been dreaming. [Rubbing his eyes.

FREDERIK. [Goes to the window, closes it.  The child looks at him and, in retreating from him, unconsciously backs towards PETER.] Are you feeling better?

WILLIAM.  Yes, sir, I feel better—­and hungry.

FREDERIK.  Go back to bed.

WILLIAM.  Yes, sir. [FREDERIK sits.

PETER.  Where’s your mother, William?

WILLIAM.  Do you know where Annamarie is?

PETER.  Ah!

FREDERIK.  Why do you ask me?  What should I know of her?

WILLIAM.  Grandmother doesn’t know; Miss Catherine doesn’t know; nobody knows.

FREDERIK.  I don’t know, either. [Tears up the picture—­turning so that WILLIAM does not see what he is doing. PETER, who has been smiling at WILLIAM, motions him to come nearer. WILLIAM, feeling PETER’S presence, looks round the room.

WILLIAM.  Mr. Frederik, where’s old Mr. Grimm?

FREDERIK.  Dead.

WILLIAM.  Are you sure he’s dead?  ’Cause—­[Puzzled—­unable to explain himself, he hesitates.

FREDERIK. [Annoyed..] You’d better go to bed.

WILLIAM. [Pointing to a glass of water on a tray.] Can I have a drink of water, please?

FREDERIK.  Go to bed, sir, or you’ll be punished.  Water’s not good for little boys with fever.

WILLIAM. [Going towards the stairs.] Wish I could find a cold brook and lie in it. [Goes slowly up the stairs. FREDERIK would destroy the pieces of the picture; but PETER faces him as though forbidding him to touch it, and, for the first time, FREDERIK imagines he sees the apparition of his uncle.

FREDERIK. [In a very low voice—­almost inaudibly.] My God!  I thought I saw ... [Receding a step and yet another step as the vision of PETER is still before him, he passes out of the room, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead. WILLIAM, hearing the door close, comes down stairs and, running to the table at back, drinks a glass of water.

WILLIAM.  Um!  That’s good!

PETER.  William! [WILLIAM doesn’t see PETER yet, but he feels his influence.

WILLIAM.  Wish it had been the circus music.

PETER.  You shall hear it all again. [Gestures towards the plate of cakes on the tray.] Come, William, here’s something very nice.