FRANCES.  I’ve managed to get the pistol out of his hand.  Was that wrong ... oughtn’t I to have touched it?

WEDGECROFT.  Of course you oughtn’t.  You must stay away from the room.  I’d better have locked the door.

FRANCES. [Pitifully.] I’m sorry ... but I couldn’t bear to see the pistol in his hand.  I won’t go back.  After all he’s not there in the room, is he?  But how long do you think the spirit stays near the body ... how long?  When people die gently of age or weakness....  But when the spirit and body are so strong and knit together and all alive as his....

WEDGECROFT. [His hand on hers.] Hush ... hush.

FRANCES.  His face is very eager ... as if it still could speak.  I know that.

      MRS. FARRANT comes through the open doorway. FRANCES hears her
      steps and turning falls into her outstretched arms to cry there.

FRANCES.  Oh, Julia!

MRS. FARRANT.  Oh my dear Fanny!  I came with Cyril Horsham ...  I don’t think
Simpson even saw me.

FRANCES.  I can’t go in and talk to him.

MRS. FARRANT.  He’ll understand.  But I heard you come in here....

WEDGECROFT.  I’ll tell Horsham.

      He has finished and addressed his letter, so he goes out with it.
      FRANCES lifts her head.  These two are in accord and can speak their
      feelings without disguise or preparation.

FRANCES.  Julia, Julia ... isn’t it unbelievable?

MRS. FARRANT.  I’d give ... oh, what wouldn’t I give to have it undone!

FRANCES.  I knew he meant to ... and yet I thought I had his promise.  If he really meant to ...  I couldn’t have stopped it, could I?

MRS. FARRANT.  Walter sent to tell me and I sent round to....

FRANCES.  Walter came soon after, I think.  Julia, I was in my room ... it was nearly breakfast time ... when I heard the shot.  Oh ... don’t you think it was cruel of him?

MRS. FARRANT.  He had a right to.  We must remember that.

FRANCES.  You say that easily of my brother ... you wouldn’t say it of your husband.

      They are apart by this, JULIA FARRANT goes to her gently.

MRS. FARRANT.  Fanny ... will it leave you so very lonely?

FRANCES.  Yes ... lonelier than you can ever be.  You have children.  I’m just beginning to realise....

MRS. FARRANT. [Leading her from the mere selfishness of sorrow.] There’s loneliness of the spirit, too.

FRANCES.  Ah, but once you’ve tasted the common joys of life ... once you’ve proved all your rights as a man or a woman....

MRS. FARRANT.  Then there are subtler things to miss.  As well be alone like you, or dead like him, without them ...  I sometimes think.

FRANCES. [Responsive, lifted from egoism, reading her friend’s mind.] You demand much.