DEARTH. Alas, I am unavoidably detained. You will find me in the garden when you come back.
JOANNA (whose sense of humour has been restored). If we ever do come back!
DEARTH. Precisely. (With a groggy bow.) Should we never meet again, Alice, fare thee well. Purdie, if you find the tree of knowledge in the wood bring me back an apple.
PURDIE. I promise.
LOB. Come quickly. Matey mustn't see me. (He is turning out the lights.)
LADY CAROLINE (pouncing). Matey? What difference would that make, Lob?
LOB. He would take me off to bed; it's past my time.
COADE (not the least gay of the company). You know, old fellow, you make it very difficult for us to embark upon this adventure in the proper eerie spirit.
DEARTH. Well, I'm for the garden.
(He walks to the window, and the others are going out by the door. But they do not go. There is a hitch somewhere—at the window apparently, for DEARTH, having begun to draw the curtains apart lets them fall, like one who has had a shock. The others remember long afterwards his grave face as he came quietly back and put his cigar on the table. The room is in darkness save for the light from one lamp.)