Frances. Lord Horsham is in the drawing room ... and I can't see him, I really can't. He has come to say he is sorry ... and I should tell him that it is his fault, partly. I know I should ... and I don't want to. Won't you go in? What are you writing?
Wedgecroft, with his physicianly pre-occupation, can attend, understand, sympathise, without looking up at her.
Wedgecroft. Never mind. A necessary note ... to the Coroner's office. Yes, I'll see Horsham.
Frances. I've managed to get the pistol out of his hand. Was that wrong ... oughtn't I to have touched it?
Wedgecroft. Of course you oughtn't. You must stay away from the room. I'd better have locked the door.
Frances. [Pitifully.] I'm sorry ... but I couldn't bear to see the pistol in his hand. I won't go back. After all he's not there in the room, is he? But how long do you think the spirit stays near the body ... how long? When people die gently of age or weakness.... But when the spirit and body are so strong and knit together and all alive as his....
Wedgecroft. [His hand on hers.] Hush ... hush.
Frances. His face is very eager ... as if it still could speak. I know that.
Mrs. Farrant comes through the open doorway. Frances hears her steps and turning falls into her outstretched arms to cry there.
Frances. Oh, Julia!