[STERLING, who has been growing more and more drowsy, as soon as he is alone, goes with difficulty to the door and locks it.  He is so drowsy that he leans against the door for a moment; then he starts to go back to the table, but is unable to get there and sinks on the sofa half way between the table and the door.  His eyes close, but suddenly he starts violently and tries to rise, but cannot, crying out faintly.

STERLING.  Good God—­the money!  I forgot the money—­who’ll pay my debts?  Ah, this is a fitting climax for my life—­the weakest, dirtiest thing I’ve done—­[He gets the letter from his pocket and holds it in his hand; the light of the afternoon grows slowly dim, like his fading sight and senses.  He murmurs twice in a faint, drowsy voice.] Coward!  Coward!

[BLANCHE, in the hall outside Right, calls his name.

BLANCHE.  Dick!

[STERLING’S body relaxes and sets.  The letter drops from his lifeless hands.

[BLANCHE enters with RUTH, followed by RICHARD, who rides a stick with a horse’s head and wears a soldier’s cap.

RICHARD.  Merry Christmas, father!

BLANCHE. [Going toward the sofa.] Dick!

RICHARD.  Merry Christmas, father!

BLANCHE.  Sh!  Father’s asleep.

[They steal back toward the other door when WARDEN enters Right.

WARDEN.  Oh, you are here!  I went down into the drawing-room where I left you.

BLANCHE.  Sh!

[She points to STERLING, who lies apparently asleep.  They speak in lowered voices.

WARDEN.  Yes, I have a message for you from him.

[Looking at RICHARD and RUTH.

RUTH. [Who understands.] Come, Richard, I haven’t seen your tree yet.

[She goes out Right with RICHARD.

WARDEN. [To BLANCHE.] Give me your hand.

[She does so wonderingly.

WARDEN. [Softly, with a man’s tenderness in his voice.] He is going away for good.

BLANCHE.  Away?

WARDEN.  For good.

BLANCHE. [Slowly, withdrawing her hand.] For good? [She looks over toward STERLING, and then back to WARDEN.] What does he mean?

WARDEN.  We will know when he wakes.

THE CURTAIN STEALS SOFTLY DOWN