Little Child, you shall. You can dismiss the nurse. (Glances at clock.) It is close on six.
Mrs. Lattin
Kiss me. (He kisses her softly and goes out.) If only—ah, if only my great yearning.…
[She lies back exhausted. Sighs. Covers her face with her hands. After a moment she uncovers her face and half sits up again. She stares hard at Egyptian picture on the wall.
The fault lies in my soul, and it comes first from there—from Egypt. The river is rising, rising once again. The stars are rising too. They watch me, and they wait. They’re always watching us. O God! If only some one could make me understand! If some great doctor of the soul…! (Sinks back. Her eyes close. She lies very still.)
[A big clock on the mantelpiece strikes the first three strokes of six o’clock, then stops. The door opens slowly and a man enters quietly. He looks round the room, sees her on the sofa apparently asleep, and stands still, a few feet inside the door. He looks steadily at her a moment, then glances at the picture of Egypt on the wall. He smiles gently. His figure is a little bent, perhaps. He is not a big man with any marked presence. As he smiles, she opens her eyes and sees him. She shows surprise and slight embarrassment. She raises herself on one arm. Her voice is hushed rather when she speaks. He remains near the open door.
I beg your pardon. Is it—Dr. Ogilvie?
Doctor
I am the Doctor.
Mrs. Lattin