[Obediently Wanda drinks, and he also.]

Now go and make yourself beautiful.

Wanda. [Seizing him in her arms] Oh, Larry!

Larry. [Touching her face and hair] Hanged by the neck until he’s dead—­for what I did.

     [Wanda takes a long look at his face, slips her arms from him,
     and goes out through the curtains below the fireplace.]

     [Larry feels in his pocket, brings out the little box, opens it,
     fingers the white tabloids.]

Larry.  Two each—­after food. [He laughs and puts back the box] Oh! my girl!

     [The sound of a piano playing a faint festive tune is heard afar
     off.  He mutters, staring at the fire.]

     [Flames-flame, and flicker-ashes.]

“No more, no more, the moon is dead, And all the people in it.”

     [He sits on the couch with a piece of paper on his knees, adding
     a few words with a stylo pen to what is already written.]

     [The girl, in a silk wrapper, coming back through the curtains,
     watches him.]

Larry. [Looking up] It’s all here—­I’ve confessed. [Reading]

“Please bury us together.” 
“Laurence Darrant. 
“January 28th, about six p.m.”

They’ll find us in the morning.  Come and have supper, my dear love.

     [The girl creeps forward.  He rises, puts his arm round her, and
     with her arm twined round him, smiling into each other’s faces,
     they go to the table and sit down.]

The curtain falls for a few seconds to indicate the passage of three hours.  When it rises again, the lovers are lying on the couch, in each other’s arms, the lilies stream about them.  The girl’s bare arm is round Larry’s neck.  Her eyes are closed; his are open and sightless.  There is no light but fire-light.

A knocking on the door and the sound of a key turned in the lock.  Keith enters.  He stands a moment bewildered by the half-light, then calls sharply:  “Larry!” and turns up the light.  Seeing the forms on the couch, he recoils a moment.  Then, glancing at the table and empty decanters, goes up to the couch.

Keith. [Muttering] Asleep!  Drunk!  Ugh!

     [Suddenly he bends, touches Larry, and springs back.]

What! [He bends again, shakes him and calls] Larry!  Larry!

     [Then, motionless, he stares down at his brother’s open,
     sightless eyes.  Suddenly he wets his finger and holds it to the
     girl’s lips, then to Larry’s.]

     [He bends and listens at their hearts; catches sight of the
     little box lying between them and takes it up.]

My God!

     [Then, raising himself, he closes his brother’s eyes, and as he
     does so, catches sight of a paper pinned to the couch; detaches
     it and reads:]