Hop. (stops, gazing off across stream through the falling snow). She's coming.
Winth. The boat!
Hop. Yes.
Winth. Alone?
Hop. No, an old negro is with her; she has a white flag up. They are very near.
[The snow begins to fall more heavily. At the back an old boat comes slowly into view through the trees. Fair, dressed in her little black dress, stands in the bow, with a handkerchief tied on a long wooden staff. She is without her hat, her hair blowing about her face, her eyes straining through the thickly falling snow; she is deadly pale; she stands erect and very still. Old Cupid, also without his hat, is at the other end of the boat rowing. They move across stage from (Right) to (Left), disappearing (Left).
Hop. They are at the landing.
[All the men stand looking after the boat until it has disappeared.
Winth. Where are they now!
Hop. Coming up the bank.