STERLING.  One, two, three, four—­[He puts all in the glass, dropping them as he counts.  He hesitates, then quickly drops in two more and drinks quickly.  The glass is empty.  He sits by the table thinking a moment, then lakes a piece of paper and makes ready his stylographic pen.] Let me see; can I make it seem accidental; it would be so much less bother and trouble for them! [He thinks a second, then writes.] “I have accidentally taken an overdose of my sleeping draught.  I have tried to call some one, but it’s no use.  I ask only one thing, that you forget all my sins, wipe out their memory with my name.  I want my boy to change his name, too.” [He hesitates a moment, and then scratches that sentence heavily out.] No, I won’t say that. [He waits a moment.] God in heaven, what wouldn’t I give for one friendly word just now!  Some one to sort of say good-by to me—­take my hand—­even a servant!

[He looks about him, showing signs of drowsiness.  The door Right bursts open. STERLING quickly hides the letter in his inside pocket as WARDEN comes in.

WARDEN.  My hat!  Where’s my hat!

[He looks about for it.

STERLING. [Quietly.] Ned?

WARDEN.  My hat, I say!  Where’s my hat?

[Looking.

STERLING.  Ned!

[Something in his voice arrests WARDEN’S attention.

WARDEN.  What? [He looks at him.] What’s the matter—­

STERLING.  Nothing—­I’m half asleep, that’s all—­the reaction—­I’m worn out and I’ve changed my mind—­

WARDEN.  How do you mean?

STERLING.  I’m going away for good—­that’s the best I can do; I want you to forgive me—­could you?  What do you say?  Forgive me for everything!  For the sake of the old schoolboy days—­

WARDEN.  When are you going?

STERLING.  To-day.  Will you say good-by to me and wish me well on my journey?

WARDEN. [Speaks without sympathy.] You can count on me always to help you in any way I can.  You can still retrieve a good deal if you’re strong enough.

STERLING.  I know what a beastly friend I’ve been, and yesterday was more than any man would stand, but forgive that, too, will you?  I’ve always been a bad lot!

WARDEN. [Goes to him and speaks, with the sympathy of a man for a child coming into his voice.] No, a weak lot; that’s been your ruin, Dickie.  I’ll see you again before you go.

STERLING.  No, I’m going to sleep as long as I can now, and I don’t want any one to wake me up; but when I do wake, I shall have other things to do.  This is good-by.

WARDEN.  Well, good luck! [He starts to go.  The two men look at each other, and finally STERLING gets the courage to hold out his hand. WARDEN hesitates a moment, then shakes it.] Good luck!

[He goes out Left.