WARDEN. [_Seizes_ STERLING, _catches his arm, and wrenches the pistol from him._] So that's what you planned to do, is it--make a wretched scene like that? [_It begins to snow more heavily._ STERLING. [_In utter collapse and shame._] Why did you stop me? I'm better out of the world. I'm crazy with shame. First I disgraced and now I've insulted--_degraded_--the only living thing I care for,--that's my wife. [_A moment's pause._ BLANCHE. [_Speaks quietly._] Come back to the house. Mr. Mason is looking for you; he has something to tell you. STERLING. I know--more bad news. BLANCHE. No, good. STERLING. [_Echoes._] Good! [_Starting to go, he turns at the porch._] I want _you_ to know that _I_ know I'm a rotten beast. [_He goes out Left._ WARDEN. You're going back _home_? BLANCHE. "_Home!_" [_With a faint smile._] I should hardly call it that. WARDEN. [_Aside to her._] You're not afraid? BLANCHE. [_Half smiling._] Oh, no! And my boy's there. [_The thick falling snow almost hides them, but they are unconscious of it._ WARDEN. What's to be done? BLANCHE. Wait; we'll see--we'll see--let it be something we could never regret. Good-by, Ned. [_Giving him her hand._ WARDEN. Good-by, Blanche. [_Kissing her hand very tenderly and almost with a certain kind of awe, as_ THE CURTAIN SLOWLY FALLS ACT IV _The following morning; at the_ STERLINGS'; _the library; a warm, livable, and lovable room, full of pictures, photographs, and books; mistletoe and holly decorate everywhere. In the bow-window at back there is a large bird-cage with half a dozen birds in it. The furniture is comfortable and heavily upholstered. At Left there is a fireplace with logs ready, but the fire is not lit. There a big table near the centre, full of magazines, illustrated papers, and books. A big arm-chair is beside the table, and other chairs conversationally close. There is a table near the door at Right, piled with Christmas gifts, still wrapped in white paper; they are tied with many colored ribbons and bunches of holly. There are doors Right and Left. After the curtain rises on an empty stage,_ RUTH _enters quickly; while she has her buoyant manner, she is, of course, more serious than usual. She carries a bunch of fresh violets in her hand. She looks about the room with a sort of curiosity. She is waiting for some one to appear. She takes up a silver-framed photograph of her brother which stands on a table and speaks aloud to it._ RUTH. I'm glad you're spared this. [_With a long-drawn breath she places the photograph back upon the table and turns to greet_ BLANCHE, _who comes in Right._] Good morning, my dear. [_She kisses her._ BLANCHE. Good morning. You've had my note? [RUTH _nods._] Thank you. I wanted to see you before I saw any one else. You must help me decide, only _you_ can. RUTH. Have you seen your husband this morning? BLANCHE. No. He sent word he was feeling ill, but would like to see me when I was willing. RUTH. And you?