I was glad to hear my name. It’s too much alone. [_He and MARGARET stand there hesitatingly, as if they are not able to do it--settle down in this room and talk. CRAIG takes out his cigarette case. In the subdued voice of one whose feeling is somewhere else._] You want a cigarette, Margaret? MARGARET No. I don’t believe so. CRAIG Oh, I remember, you don’t like these. Bernice must have some of the-- [_He opens a chest on the mantel, takes from it a beautiful little box._ MARGARET [_As she sees the box._] Oh--[_Turning away._] Thank you, Craig, but-- CRAIG Of course. [_Holds the box for a moment, then slowly replaces it. He looks around the room. Then, helplessly._] I don’t know what I’m going to do. [_He sits down before the fire. MARGARET also sits. The door at the other side of the room opens and the FATHER comes in from his room._ FATHER I was going to bed now. I thought I’d go in here first. [_Slowly goes in where Bernice is. A little while CRAIG and MARGARET sit there silent._ CRAIG And I don’t know what he’s going to do. Poor old man. Bernice was certainly good to him--keeping him happy in that life he made for himself away from life. It’s queer about him, Margaret. Somehow he just didn’t go on, did he? Made a fight in his youth, and stopped there. He’s one of the wrecks of the Darwinian theory. Spent himself fighting for it, and--let it go at that. [_Running his hand through his hair._] Oh, well, I suppose we’re all wrecks of something. [_With a nervous laugh._] What are you a wreck of, Margaret? You’re a wreck of free speech. [_Impatiently._] I’m talking like a fool. I’m nervous. I’ll be glad when he goes to bed. [_Looking upstairs._] I guess Laura’s gone to bed. [_After looking into the fire._] Well, Bernice isn’t leaving any children to--be without her. I suppose now it’s just as well we lost our boy before we ever had him. But she would have made a wonderful mother, wouldn’t she, Margaret? MARGARET Oh, yes! CRAIG You ever wish you had children, Margaret? MARGARET Yes. CRAIG [_Roughly._] Well, why don’t you have? MARGARET [_Slowly._] Why, I don’t just know, Craig. Life--seems to get filled up so quickly. CRAIG Yes. And before we know it, it’s all over--or as good as over. Funny--how your mind jumps around. Just then I thought of my mother. How she used to say: “Now eat your bread, Craig.” [_His voice breaks, he buries his face in his hands. MARGARET reaches over and puts a hand on his shoulder. The door opens and the FATHER comes out. He stands looking at them._ FATHER [_Gently._] Yes. Of course. I’m glad you’re here Margaret. But my little girl looks very peaceful, Craig. [_Pause._] She had a happy life. [_CRAIG moves, turning a little away. MARGARET makes a move as if to shield him, but does not do this._ FATHER Yes; she had a happy life. Didn’t she, Margaret? MARGARET I always thought so. FATHER