The Uncle. There is no cold wind, the windows are shut.
The Daughter. I think it is going out.
The Father. There is no more oil.
The Daughter. It has gone right out.
The Father. We cannot stay like this in the dark.
The Uncle. Why not?—I am quite accustomed to it.
The Father. There is a light in my wife's room.
The Uncle. We will take it from there presently, when the doctor has been.
The Father. Well, we can see enough here; there is the light from outside.
The Grandfather. Is it light outside?