Dear Brutus - LightNovelsOnl.com
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MABEL. Then there is hope for you and me, Jack.
PURDIE (ign.o.bly). I don't expect so.
JOANNA (wandering about the room, like one renewing acquaintance with it after returning from a journey). Hadn't we better go to bed? It must be getting late.
PURDIE. Hold on to bed! (They all brighten.)
MATEY (entering). Breakfast is quite ready.
(They exclaim.)
LADY CAROLINE. My watch has stopped.
JOANNA. And mine. Just as well perhaps!
MABEL. There is a smell of coffee.
(The gloom continues to lift.)
COADE. Come along, Coady; I do hope you have not been tiring your foot.
MRS. COADE. I shall give it a good rest to-morrow, dear.
MATEY. I have given your egg six minutes, ma'am.
(They set forth once more upon the eternal round. The curious JOANNA remains behind.)
JOANNA. A strange experiment, Matey; does it ever have any permanent effect?
MATEY (on whom it has had none). So far as I know, not often, miss; but, I believe, once in a while.
(There is hope in this for the brave ones. If we could wait long enough we might see the DEARTHS breasting their way into the light.)
_He_ could tell you.
(The elusive person thus referred to kicks responsively, meaning perhaps that none of the others will change till there is a tap from another hammer. But when MATEY goes to rout him from his chair he is no longer there. His disappearance is no shock to MATEY, who shrugs his shoulders and opens the windows to let in the glory of a summer morning. The garden has returned, and our queer little hero is busy at work among his flowers. A lark is rising.)
The End
