[After a silence, the light turns red again.
Morris. [Dashing suddenly to the glass doors and examining them.] It's the glass! You've been doing something to the glass!
[He stops suddenly and there is a long silence.
Conjurer. [Still without moving.] I don't think you will find anything wrong with the glass.
Morris. [Bursting open the glass doors with a crash.] Then I'll find out what's wrong with the lamp.
[Disappears into the garden.
Doctor. It is still a wet night, I am afraid.
Smith. Yes. And somebody else will be wandering about the garden now.
[Through the broken glass doors Morris can be seen marching backwards and forwards with swifter and swifter steps.
Smith. I suppose in this case the Celtic twilight will not get on the chest.