Bookseller. Well, I should guess so, ma’am. That’s the last book he had. He told me about it before. He ’s been bringin’ them all here. I think he ’ll be back, ma’am, and I ’ll keep the book for you.
Hel. Thank you. (Turns to go. Sees letter on the floor and picks it up) Why, ’t is ... he dropped it! I wonder if I may ... he is suffering ... that shabby coat ... and he is so proud. I think I ought to read it. I must know where to find him. (Looks at letter) Fordham! (Reads)
My Dear Son: One last prayer the mother of your Virginia makes to you. She is dying. Come and sit by her and she will carry a smile to her grave. Do not stay away because you can not bear to witness her suffering,—because you have nothing to give her. Come, and by your loving presence lessen her pain. God bless you! Your devoted mother,
Maria Clemm.
(Helen stands trembling and holding the letter) ... And I hurt him ... I hurt him....
(CURTAIN)
Scene II: Poe’s cottage, Fordham. A room almost bare. Virginia sleeping on bed. Poe’s cloak over her. Mrs. Clemm kneeling in prayer beside her. Poe enters, carrying a bundle of broken sticks which he lays down softly, one by one, on the hearth, looking anxiously toward the bed. Mrs. Clemm rises and comes to the fire)
Mrs. C. My child, you have been out in the snow without your cloak! (Brushes snow from his shoulders)
Poe. Could I take the least warmth from yon shivering angel?
Mrs. C. You forget that you, too, are ill. O, my boy, be careful, or I shall soon be childless in the world. One is already lost....
Poe. Not lost. See how she sleeps! She is better. I know she is better.