PETER. [The storm passes as he speaks into the receiver without touching the telephone.] Good-evening, my friend. We shall soon meet—face to face. You won't be able to carry this matter through…. [Looking into space as though he could see the future.] You're not well and you're going out to supper to-night; … you will eat something that will cause you to pass over…. I shall see you to-morrow…. A happy crossing!
FREDERIK. [Picks up the receiver.] Hello?… You don't feel well, you say? [Then echoing the purport of HICKS' answer.] I see…. Your lawyer can attend to everything to-night without you. Very well. It's entirely a question of money, Mr. Hicks. Send your lawyer to the Grimm Manor Hotel. I'll arrange at once for a room. Good-bye. [Hangs up the receiver.] That's off my mind. [He lights a fresh cigarette—his face expressing the satisfaction he feels in the prospect of a perfectly idle future. PETER looks at him as though to say: "And that's the boy whom I loved and trusted!" FREDERIK gets his hat, throws his coat over his arm, and hastens out.
PETER. [Turns and faces the door leading into the next room, as though he could feel the presence of some one waiting there.] Yes … I am still in the house. Come in … come in … [He repeats the signal of the first act.] Ou—oo. [The door opens slowly—and CATHERINE enters as though at PETER'S call. She looks about her, not understanding. He holds out his arms to her. CATHERINE walks slowly towards him. He takes her in his arms, but she does not respond. She does not know that she is being held.] There! There!… Don't worry…. It's all right…. We'll arrange things very differently. I've come back to change all my plans. [She moves away a step—just out of his embrace. He tries to call her back.] Katie! … Can't I make my presence known to you? Katie! Can't my love for you outlive me? Isn't it here in the home?… Don't cry. [She moves about the room in thought. As PETER watches her—she pauses near his desk.
CATHERINE. [Suddenly.] Crying doesn't help matters.
PETER. She hears me. She doesn't know it, but she hears me. She's cheering up. [She inhales the flowers—a half smile on her lips.] That's right, you haven't smiled before since I died. [Suddenly giving way to the realization of her loss, CATHERINE sighs.
PETER. [Correcting himself.] I—I mean—since I learned that there was a happier place than the world I left…. I'm a trifle confused. I've not had time to adjust myself to these new conditions. [CATHERINE smiles sadly—goes up to the window, and, leaning against the pane, looks out into the night. PETER continues comfortingly.] The dead have never really died, you know. We couldn't die if we tried. We're all about you…. Look at the gardens: they've died, haven't they? But there they are all the better for it. Death is the greatest thing in the world. It's really a—Ha!—delightful experience. What is it, after all? A nap from which we waken rested, refreshened … a sleep from which we spring up like children tumbling out of bed—ready to frolic through another world. I was an old man a few days ago; now I'm a boy. I feel much younger than you—much younger. [A conflict is going on in CATHERINE'S mind. She walks to the chair by the fireplace and sits—her back to the audience. He approaches her and lays a tender hand on her shoulder.] I know what you're thinking…. Katie, I want you to break that very foolish promise I asked you to make. You're almost tempted to. Break it! Break it at once; then—[Glancing smilingly towards the door through which he came—as though he wished to leave—like a child longing to go back to play.] then I could—take the journey back in peace…. I can't go until you do—and I … I long to go…. Isn't my message any clearer to you? [Reading her mind.] You have a feeling … an impression of what I'm saying; but the words … the words are not clear…. Mm … let me see…. If you can't understand me—there's the Doctor, he'll know how to get the message— he'll find the way…. Then I can hurry back … home….
CATHERINE. [Helplessly—changing her position like a tired child.] Oh,
I'm so alone.
PETER. [Cheerily.] Not alone at all—not at all. I shall drop in very often … and then, there's your mother. [Suddenly remembering.] Oh, yes, I had almost forgotten. I have a message for you, Katie…. [He seats himself in a chair which is almost in front of her.] I've met your mother. [She sits in a reverie. PETER continues with the air of a returned traveller relating his experiences.] She heard that I had crossed over and there she was—waiting for me. You're thinking of it, aren't you? Wondering if we met…. Yes, that was the first interesting experience. She knew me at once. "You were Peter Grimm," she said, "before you knew better"—that's what they call leaving this world—"to know better." You call it "dying." [Confidentially.] She's been here often, it seems, watching over you. I told her how much I loved you and said that you had a happy home. I spoke of your future—of my plans for you and Frederik. "Peter Grimm," she said, "you've over-looked the most important thing in the world—love. You haven't given her her right to the choice of her lover—her right!" Then it came over me that I'd made a terrible mistake … and at that minute, you called to me. [Impressively.] In the darkness surrounding all I had left behind, there came a light … a glimmer where you stood … a clear call in the night…. It seemed as though I had not been away one second … but in that second, you had suffered…. Now I am back to show you the way…. I am here to put my hand on your dear head and give you your mother's blessing; to say she will be with you in spirit until she holds you in her arms—you and your loved husband—[CATHERINE turns in her chair and looks towards the door of the room in which JAMES is working. PETER catches the thought.]— yes, James, it's you…. And the message ended in this kiss. [Prints a kiss on her cheek.] Can't you think I'm with you, dear child? Can't you think I'm trying to help you? Can't you even hope? Oh, come, at least hope! Anybody can hope.
CATHERINE rises with an entire change of manner—takes a bright red blossom from the vase on PETER'S desk—then deliberately walks to the door of the room in which JAMES is working. PETER follows her action hopefully. She does not tap on the door, however, but turns and sits at the piano—in thought—not facing the piano. She puts PETER'S flowers against her face. Then, laying the flowers on the piano, sings softly three or four bars of the song she sang in the first act—and stops abruptly.
CATHERINE. [To herself.] That I should sit here singing—at a time like this!