Then begins a scared swaying out towards the window.  Some one turns out the lights, and in the darkness the crowd fast melts away.  The body of more lies in the gleam from a single Chinese lantern.  Muttering the words:  “Poor devil!  He kept his end up anyway!” the chief Student picks from the floor a little abandoned Union Jack and lays it on MORE’s breast.  Then he, too, turns, and rushes out.

     And the body of more lies in the streak of light; and flee
     noises in the street continue to rise.

          Thecurtain falls, but rises again almost at once.

Aftermath

A late Spring dawn is just breaking.  Against trees in leaf and blossom, with the houses of a London Square beyond, suffused by the spreading glow, is seen a dark life-size statue on a granite pedestal.  In front is the broad, dust-dim pavement.  The light grows till the central words around the pedestal can be clearly read: 

Erected
To the Memory
of
Stephen more
“Faithful to his ideal”

High above, the face of more looks straight before him with a faint smile.  On one shoulder and on his bare head two sparrows have perched, and from the gardens, behind, comes the twittering and singing of birds.

THE CURTAIN FALLS.

The End