No. You see we didn’t know--Abbie and I didn’t have any idea--I spoke of sending for you when we sent the telegram for Margaret, but Bernice said you’d be here soon anyway, and she didn’t want to hurry you away from New York. [_As if not understanding it himself, and trying to find an explanation._] I suppose you were doing something that she knew about, and didn’t want to interrupt. [_CRAIG half looks at him._ CRAIG And Margaret answered that she was coming? FATHER Yes, we heard from her Thursday morning that she had started. She could get here today. We didn’t know where to reach her telling her it was too late now for--for the visit with Bernice. [_Breaking._] I just can’t believe it! Think of what you and I are talking about! Bernice, _out_ of life. She was so--_of_ it. Didn’t you feel that, Craig--about Bernice? CRAIG Yes. She seemed so--secured. It never seemed anything could--destroy Bernice. FATHER When I think she won’t come down those stairs again! CRAIG I can’t--think of things that way now. FATHER No. No, of course not. [_He does not know what to say, so gathers together his cards, then books._] I’ll just--I was just going in my room. [_Pause._] I’ve been getting on fine with my Sanscrit, Craig. CRAIG That’s good. FATHER And now the war is over, and some of the people who fussed around about it influenced it as little as I, and I--have my Sanscrit. You know, Bernice used to laugh at me, Craig. She--the way she used to laugh at us--lovingly. Seems to me I’ll miss that most of all. [_He goes into his room--through the door to the rear of the stairway._ [_Alone in the room, CRAIG tries to look around. He cannot. He has taken a step toward the closed door when he hears ABBIE’S step on the stairs._ CRAIG [_Impetuously going to her, his hands out._] Abbie, _you_ were good to her. [_Takes her hands, holds them tight. Then changing._] Why didn’t you telegraph me when she was taken sick? [_Violently._] Do you think there was anything in New York I wouldn’t have left? Bernice _knew_ that if she needed me--She never seemed to need me. I never felt she--couldn’t get along without me. [_Taking a few stumbling steps toward the room where Bernice is._] Oh, I _wish_ I could have a talk with her. ABBIE Mr. Norris! [_Her tone halts him._] There’s something I must tell you. CRAIG A--message she left? ABBIE Message? No. Yes--perhaps. Before you go in there I must tell you-- [_They are arrested by the sound of a stopping car; neither moves; in a moment MARGARET PIERCE hurries in._ MARGARET [_After looking at them._] She’s worse? [_Growing more and more alarmed by them._] Where is she? [_Starts towards the stairs._ ABBIE No--there. [_Pointing._ CRAIG [_Stepping between MARGARET and the closed door._] She’s dead, Margaret. MARGARET Dead? Oh--no. Not Bernice. [_Waits imploringly._] But that couldn’t _be_. CRAIG I know. I know what you mean, Margaret.