Yielding to his embrace, whispers.
Don't talk. Don't think. Only—love me. A little while. A little while.
The deep hush of their embrace is broken by a cry from within. The young mother opens the hall door, in a distraction of terror and grief.
Mother.
Come here! Come quick!
Michaelis and Rhoda draw apart. He stares at the woman, as if not remembering who she is.
I can't rouse him! My baby's gone. Oh, my God, he's dead!
She disappears. Rhoda follows, drawing Michaelis, dazed and half resisting, with her. The room remains vacant for a short time, the stage held by distant singing. Beeler enters from the kitchen. There is a knock at the outer door, which he opens. Littlefield, Culpepper, and Uncle Abe enter.
Littlefield.
Your man hasn't vamoosed, has he? Uncle Abe here says he saw the Indian boy slipping by in the fog.