Mrs. Ritter. [Opening the door] Are you up, Jenny?—Jenny! [She closes the door again and crosses above the table at the left and over to the one below the piano. Here she sets down a few of the roses, then decides there is not sufficient room for all of them, and starts across to the table at the left. Ritter appears at the head of the stairs and starts down slowly. She sees him, and stops dead.] Fred! [She moves up towards the left of the center-door.] You don’t mean to tell me you’ve been home here,—and there I’ve been waiting at the hall since before ten o’clock. [He wanders in through the center-door and leans against the piano, holding a lighted cigar in his hand.] Why didn’t you come back for me? Irene Colter had to bring me home. [She starts to cry.] Clara Sheppard told me she saw you there, so, naturally, I waited for you. And when you didn’t come back, why, of course, right away—I thought something had happened to you. [She cries into her handkerchief.]
Ritter. [Without moving, and in a toneless voice] Something has happened to me. [She looks at him apprehensively.]
Mrs. Ritter. What happened to you, Fred?
Ritter. [Stonily, and moving down and across below the piano] I’ve seen you act.
Mrs. Ritter. What? [He raises his left hand solemnly and continues to the corner of the piano nearest the window, where he leans. She moves down a bit after him.] What’s the matter, Fred,—did you have another of those spells that you had last night?
Ritter. Yes; only a great deal worse.
Mrs. Ritter. Oh, isn’t that dreadful! What do you think it is, dear?
Ritter. [Turning slightly, and glancing at the violet easel and over at the anchor] I don’t know what it is. It looks like a wake to me. Who’s dead?
Mrs. Ritter. Dead?
Ritter. What are all these flowers doing here?