[He heaves the heavy pieces from the body and drags it out, as Padie, with a long cry, flies down the stairs. He feels the breast quickly and rises before Padie reaches the table.]
Hank. I'm afraid he's done for.
Padie [drawing a deep quivering breath]. Oh.
Hank. He must 'a' fell.
Padie. I knew—drink'd do fer him.
Hank. Did you—love him—so much?
Padie [very low]. Once—a little. [With sudden, fierce joy.] I don't care! Now—I kin—live!
Hank [looking out over the desert where the dawn begins to show]. Both of us.
[Curtain.]