STRANGER. That's the truth! In a 'rose' room. Wait; how long have I been here?
ABBESS. Three months to-day.
STRANGER. Three months! Have I been sleeping? Or where have I been? (Looking out of the window.) It's autumn. The trees are bare; the clouds look cold. Now it's coming back to me! Can you hear a mill grinding? The sound of a horn? The rushing of a river? A wood whispering—and a woman weeping? You're right. Only there can charity be found. Farewell. (Exit.)
CONFESSOR (to the Abbess). The fool! The fool!
Curtain.
[The curtains have been taken down. The windows gape into the darkness outside. The furniture has been covered in brown loose-covers and pulled forward. The flowers have been taken away, and the large black stove lit. The MOTHER is standing ironing white curtains by the light of a single lamp. There is a knock at the door.]
MOTHER. Come in!
STRANGER (doing so). Where's my wife?
MOTHER. Where do you come from?
STRANGER. I think, from hell. But where's my wife?