McVittie (for the hundredth time): I could have sworn I had her in my arms on the raft. (His voice breaks.)
Price: You didn’t hear the Voice—
Mrs. Balbus: Voice—what voice?
Price: Something about claiming a promise. And she gave a little cry of wonder. I heard it. (He walks gloomily over to the window.)
Mr. Balbus (suddenly enlightened): That’s what Macconachie meant, when he said “to draw tears from simple hearts.” I begin to understand....
Price (at the window): How very curious.
Mrs. Balbus: My curtains? They are certainly not.
Price (in choking tones): Look at the lake—it’s drying up, or something.
They all rush to the window. An amazing thing is in progress. The bottom of the lake seems to be rising. Stunted shrubs are pushing themselves above the water.
“My gracious powers, it’s the island,” cries Mr. Balbus.