Wanda.  No, no!  No, no!  You don’t want me to die, Larry, do you?  I shall if you leave me.  Let us be happy!  Love me!

Larry. [With a laugh] Ah!  Let’s be happy and shut out the sight of him.  Who cares?  Millions suffer for no mortal reason.  Let’s be strong, like Keith.  No!  I won’t leave you, Wanda.  Let’s forget everything except ourselves. [Suddenly] There he goes-up and down!

Wanda. [Moaning] No, no!  See!  I will pray to the Virgin.  She will pity us!

     She falls on her knees and clasps her hands, praying.  Her lips
     move.  Larry stands motionless, with arms crossed, and on his
     face are yearning and mockery, love and despair.

Larry. [Whispering] Pray for us!  Bravo!  Pray away!

     [Suddenly the girl stretches out her arms and lifts her face
     with a look of ecstasy.]

What?

Wanda.  She is smiling!  We shall be happy soon.

Larry. [Bending down over her] Poor child!  When we die, Wanda, let’s go together.  We should keep each other warm out in the dark.

Wanda. [Raising her hands to his face] Yes! oh, yes!  If you die I could not—­I could not go on living!

Curtain

SCENE III.

TWO MONTHS LATER

     WANDA’S room.  Daylight is just beginning to fail of a January
     afternoon.  The table is laid for supper, with decanters of
     wine.

     Wanda is standing at the window looking out at the wintry trees
     of the Square beyond the pavement.  A newspaper Boy’s voice is
     heard coming nearer.

Voice.  Pyper!  Glove Lyne murder!  Trial and verdict! [Receding] Verdict!  Pyper!

     Wanda throws up the window as if to call to him, checks herself,
     closes it and runs to the door.  She opens it, but recoils into
     the room.  Keith is standing there.  He comes in.

Keith.  Where’s Larry?

Wanda.  He went to the trial.  I could not keep him from it.  The trial—­Oh! what has happened, sir?

Keith. [Savagely] Guilty!  Sentence of death!  Fools!—­idiots!

Wanda.  Of death! [For a moment she seems about to swoon.]

Keith.  Girl! girl!  It may all depend on you.  Larry’s still living here?

Wanda.  Yes.

Keith.  I must wait for him.

Wanda.  Will you sit down, please?

Keith. [Shaking his head] Are you ready to go away at any time?

Wanda.  Yes, yes; always I am ready.

Keith.  And he?

Wanda.  Yes—­but now!  What will he do?  That poor man!

Keith.  A graveyard thief—­a ghoul!