Scene—A luxuriously furnished room in the flat of Violet Hazelwood. Violet is seated, writing. The telephone on the table rings noisily.
Violet (picking up the receiver). Hello! Yes.... It's me.... Oh, it's Reggie.... Yes, I'm at home to you.... In three minutes?... Right. I shall be here. (Hangs up receiver.)
Maid (entering suddenly). Sir Frank Bulkeley, m'm. (Goes out and Sir Frank enters.)
Sir Frank. My dear Violet—— (A report is heard and a splintering of glass.) Confound it all, I'm shot! (Falls on floor.)
Violet. Yes, he certainly appears to be shot. I'd better go and see the police about it.(Goes out.)
Reggie Fortescue (entering precipitately). Violet.... (Looking round in perplexity). Not here! She said she would be here.... She is false to me. False! I have nothing left to live for. (Takes out a revolver, shoots himself and falls on the floor.)
Gerald Maristowe (entering cautiously through the window and carrying a rifle). This is a devil of a risky business, this rifle practice, but Ulster must be saved somehow. I see I've broken the window. Wonder if I've done any other damage. (Sees Sir Frank.) Gee! I've killed a man! (Sees Reggie.) Oh, glory! I've killed two of 'em! Reggie, too, by all that's rum! I say, you know, that's pretty useful shooting.... Still, it probably means hanging, and I'm—er—hanged if I'll be hanged. Let me rather die by my own hand. (Discharges rifle at himself, and falls on floor.)
Violet (re-entering with an Inspector and a Constable). There he is, Inspector. (Sees Gerald.) My goodness, there seem to be two now! I feel sure.... (Sees Reggie.) Three! Really, Inspector, I feel almost certain that when I left.... Oh, it's Reggie! My heart is broken! (Faints.)
Inspector. Stand back, Clarkson; this job requires thought. (Takes up telephone receiver.) Circus 20634, Miss.... That you Doc.? Come round at once, please.... Two or three men shot.... Right.... (Hangs up receiver.) Clarkson, measure the exact distance between each corpse and the window. (Clarkson proceeds to do so. Enter Doctor.) Ah, Doc., that's the little job I mentioned.
Doctor (kneeling by Violet). This one isn't shot; she's only fainted. She'll be all right in a minute. (Examines Gerald.) Nor is this one. He'll be all right in a minute. (Examines Reggie.) Nor is this one. He'll be all right in a minute. (Examines Sir Frank.) This one is, though. Dead as a door-nail. (Violet, Reggie and Gerald rise simultaneously to their feet.) There you are! I told you so.