The Grandfather. Go and shut the window, Ursula.
The Daughter. Yes, grandfather. [She shuts the window, comes back, and sits down.]
The Grandfather. I am cold. [Silence. The Three Sisters kiss each other.] What is that I hear now?
The Father. It is the three sisters kissing each other.
The Uncle. It seems to me they are very pale this evening. [Silence.]
The Grandfather. What is that I hear now, Ursula?
The Daughter. Nothing, grandfather; it is the clasping of my hands. [Silence.]
The Grandfather. And that?...
The Daughter. I do not know, grandfather ... perhaps my sisters are trembling a little?...
The Grandfather. I am afraid, too, my children. [Here a ray of moonlight penetrates through a corner of the stained glass, and throws strange gleams here and there in the room. A clock strikes midnight; at the last stroke there is a very vague sound, as of some one rising in haste.]