Helen.  Still that voice went on, and I saw Wreford take up the dead man’s gun.  Then Hubert got upon his feet, and went tottering along, so feebly, so dreadfully—­but before he could reach and stop him, Wreford fired at the man who was crying.  And Hubert called out:  “You brute!” and fell right down.  And when Wreford saw him lying there, he began to moan and sob, but Hubert never stirred.  Then it all got black again—­and I could see a dark woman—­thing creeping, first to the man without a head; then to Wreford; then to Hubert, and it touched him, and sprang away.  And it cried out:  “A-ai-ah!” [Pointing out at the mist] Look!  Out there!  The dark things!

Katherine. [Putting her arms round her] Yes, dear, yes!  You must have been looking at the mist.

Helen. [Strangely calm] He’s dead!

Katherine.  It was only a dream.

Helen.  You didn’t hear that cry. [She listens] That’s Stephen.  Forgive me, Kit; I oughtn’t to have upset you, but I couldn’t help coming.

     She goes out, Katherine, into whom her emotion seems to have
     passed, turns feverishly to the window, throws it open and leans
     out.  More comes in.

More.  Kit!

     Catching sight of her figure in the window, he goes quickly to
     her.

Katherine.  Ah! [She has mastered her emotion.]

More.  Let me look at you!

     He draws her from the window to the candle-light, and looks long
     at her.

More.  What have you done to your hair?

Katherine.  Nothing.

More.  It’s wonderful to-night.

     [He takes it greedily and buries his face in it.]

Katherine. [Drawing her hair away] Well?

More.  At last!

Katherine. [Pointing to OLIVE’s room] Hssh!

More.  How is she?

Katherine.  All right.

More.  And you?

     [Katherine shrugs her shoulders.]

More.  Six weeks!

Katherine.  Why have you come?

More.  Why!

Katherine.  You begin again the day after tomorrow.  Was it worth while?

More.  Kit!

Katherine.  It makes it harder for me, that’s all.

More. [Staring at her] What’s come to you?

Katherine.  Six weeks is a long time to sit and read about your meetings.

More.  Put that away to-night. [He touches her] This is what travellers feel when they come out of the desert to-water.

Katherine. [Suddenly noticing the cut on his forehead] Your forehead!  It’s cut.

More.  It’s nothing.

Katherine.  Oh!  Let me bathe it!

More.  No, dear!  It’s all right.