He caught at the doorpost as he spoke; and Patty Joyce’s suspicion vanished in pity for the worn-out creature. She kindled a flame to light the lanthorn which hung in the houseplace; and herself crossed the wide courtyard to make Bill a comfortable resting-place in the soft hay and clean straw which filled the great barn.[26]
This is the same scene in the play:
(Louder rapping. Trembling with rage and disappointment, Sandiland disappears down the path. Beatrice stands a moment, looking as if waking from a nightmare.)
Patty. (Outside, rapping more.) Miss Beatrice, Miss Beatrice! Quick!
Beatrice. (Crossing dazedly to door. By it, dully.) Who?
Patty. Open quick. Me and Bill.
Beat. (Recovering.) Bill!
(Quickly she unbolts the door. Patty enters, half supporting Bill. She looks about as if surprised at not seeing any one beside Beatrice. Bill’s clothes are torn and he is covered with dirt. There is blood on his hands where cords have torn the flesh. He looks white and wretched and breathes hard as if from recent running. He should play the whole scene with nervous excitement that suggests a collapse at the end of it.)
Bill. (Apologetically, as he stumbles toward Beatrice.) I’ve had a bit of a scrap. (Aside to Beatrice.) Get rid o’ ’er.
Beat. You can trust her. What has happened?