CLAIRE: (_kicking the Edge Vine out of her way, drawing deep breaths, smiling_) O-h. How good I feel! Light! (_a movement as if she could fly_) Read me something, Tom dear. Or say something pleasant--about God. But be very careful what you say about him! I have a feeling--he's not far off. CURTAIN ACT II _Late afternoon of the following day._ CLAIRE _is alone in the tower--a tower which is thought to be round but does not complete the circle. The back is curved, then jagged lines break from that, and the front is a queer bulging window--in a curve that leans. The whole structure is as if given a twist by some terrific force--like something wrong. It is lighted by an old-fashioned watchman's lantern hanging from the ceiling; the innumerable pricks and slits in the metal throw a marvellous pattern on the curved wall--like some masonry that hasn't been. There are no windows at back, and there is no door save an opening in the floor. The delicately distorted rail of a spiral staircase winds up from below._ CLAIRE _is seen through the huge ominous window as if shut into the tower. She is lying on a seat at the back looking at a book of drawings. To do this she has left the door of her lantern a little open--and her own face is clearly seen. A door is heard opening below; laughing voices,_ CLAIRE _listens, not pleased._ ADELAIDE: (_voice coming up_) Dear--dear, why do they make such twisting steps. HARRY: Take your time, most up now. (HARRY_'s head appears, he looks back._) Making it all right? ADELAIDE: I can't tell yet. (_laughingly_) No, I don't think so. HARRY: (_reaching back a hand for her_) The last lap--is the bad lap. (ADELAIDE _is up, and occupied with getting her breath._) HARRY: Since you wouldn't come down, Claire, we thought we'd come up. ADELAIDE: (_as_ CLAIRE _does not greet her_) I'm sorry to intrude, but I have to see you, Claire. There are things to be arranged. (CLAIRE _volunteering nothing about arrangements,_ ADELAIDE _surveys the tower. An unsympathetic eye goes from the curves to the lines which diverge. Then she looks from the window_) Well, at least you have a view. HARRY: This is the first time you've been up here? ADELAIDE: Yes, in the five years you've had the house I was never asked up here before. CLAIRE: (_amiably enough_) You weren't asked up here now. ADELAIDE: Harry asked me. CLAIRE: It isn't Harry's tower. But never mind--since you don't like it--it's all right. ADELAIDE: (_her eyes again rebuking the irregularities of the tower_) No, I confess I do not care for it. A round tower should go on being round. HARRY: Claire calls this the thwarted tower. She bought the house because of it. (_going over and sitting by her, his hand on her ankle_) Didn't you, old girl? She says she'd like to have known the architect. ADELAIDE: Probably a tiresome person too incompetent to make a perfect tower. CLAIRE: Well, now he's disposed of, what next?