LOB. Come on.
PURDIE (gaily). Yes, to the wood—the wood!
DEARTH (as they are going out by the door). Stop, why not go this way?
(He pulls the curtains apart, and there comes a sudden indrawing of breath from all, for no garden is there now. In its place is an endless wood of great trees; the nearest of them has come close to the window. It is a sombre wood, with splashes of moonshine and of blackness standing very still in it.)
(The party in the drawing-room are very still also; there is scarcely a cry or a movement. It is perhaps strange that the most obviously frightened is LOB who calls vainly for MATEY. The first articulate voice is DEARTH'S.)
DEARTH (very quietly). Any one ready to risk it?
PURDIE (after another silence). Of course there is nothing in it—just
DEARTH (grimly). Of course. Going out, Purdie?
(PURDIE draws back.)
MRS. DEARTH (the only one who is undaunted). A second chance! (She is looking at her husband. They all look at him as if he had been a leader once.)