HILARY. My voice didn’t--and my speech and my actions didn’t. But _I_ knew you. Meg--behind the curtain--behind the dreams and the noises, and the abandonment of God--I wanted you. I wanted--I wanted-- [_He puts his hand to his head._] Look here--I tell you we mustn’t talk of these things. It’s not safe, I tell you. When I talk I see a black hand reaching up through the floor--do you see? there--through the widening crack of the floor--to catch me by the ankle and drag--drag-- SYDNEY. Father--Father--go slow! MARGARET. [_Terrified_] Sydney! SYDNEY. It’s all right, Mother! We’ll manage. HILARY. [_Turning to her_] Yes, you tell your mother. I’m all right! You understand that, don’t you? Once it was a real hand. Now I know it’s in my mind. I tell you, Meg, I’m well. But it’s not safe to think about anything but--Oh, my dear, the holly and the crackle of the fire and the snow like a veil of peace on me--and you like the snow--so still-- _He comes to her with outstretched arms._ MARGARET [_Faintly_] No--no--no-- HILARY. [_Exalted_] Yes--yes--yes! [_He catches her to him._] MARGARET. For pity’s sake, Hilary--! BASSETT. [_Entering_] Lunch is served, Ma’am! MARGARET. [_Helplessly_] Sydney? SYDNEY. Lay an extra cover. This--my--this gentleman is staying to lunch. HILARY. [_Boisterously_] Staying to lunch! to lunch! That’s a good joke, isn’t it? I say, listen! I’m laughing. Do you know, I’m laughing? It’s blessed to laugh. Staying to lunch! Yes, my girl! Lunch and tea and supper and breakfast, thank God! and for many a long day! CURTAIN. ACT II. _The curtain rises on_ MARGARET’S _drawing-room. It is prettily furnished in a gentle, white-walled, water-colour-in-gold-frame fashion, and is full of flowers. In one corner is a parrot in a cage, and near it_ MISS FAIRFIELD’S _arm-chair and foot-stool and work-table. The fire-place has a white sheepskin in front of it, and brass fire-irons: on the mantel-piece is a gilt clock and many photographs. At right angles to the fire a low empire couch runs out into the room. There is a hint of_ SYDNEY _in the ultra-modern cushionry with which it is piled. As the curtain goes up_ BASSETT _is showing in_ GRAY MEREDITH. BASSETT. They’re still at lunch, Sir. GRAY. [_Glancing at the clock_] They’re late. BASSETT. It’s the visitor, Sir. He’s kept them talking. GRAY. Visitor? BASSETT. Yes, Sir, a strange gentleman. Will you take coffee, Sir? GRAY. I may as well go in and have it with them. BASSETT. The mistress said, would you not, Sir. She’d come to you. GRAY. [_A little surprised_] Oh, very well. BASSETT. I’ll tell Miss Sydney you’ve come, Sir. GRAY. [_Lifting his eyebrows_] Tell Mrs. Fairfield. BASSETT. Miss Sydney said I was to tell her too, Sir, quietly. GRAY. [_Puzzled_] Is--? [_He checks an impulse to question the servant_] All right! BASSETT. Thank you, Sir.