Blanche. No, good.
Sterling. [Echoes.] Good! [Starting to go, he turns at the porch.] I want you to know that I know I'm a rotten beast.
[He goes out Left.
Warden. You're going back home?
Blanche. "Home!" [With a faint smile.] I should hardly call it that.
Warden. [Aside to her.] You're not afraid?
Blanche. [Half smiling.] Oh, no! And my boy's there.
[The thick falling snow almost hides them, but they are unconscious of it.
Warden. What's to be done?
Blanche. Wait; we'll see—we'll see—let it be something we could never regret. Good-by, Ned.