[STERLING, _who has been growing more and more drowsy, as soon as he is alone, goes with difficulty to the door and locks it. He is so drowsy that he leans against the door for a moment; then he starts to go back to the table, but is unable to get there and sinks on the sofa half way between the table and the door. His eyes close, but suddenly he starts violently and tries to rise, but cannot, crying out faintly._ STERLING. Good God--the money! I forgot the money--who'll pay my debts? Ah, this is a fitting climax for my life--the weakest, dirtiest thing I've done--[_He gets the letter from his pocket and holds it in his hand; the light of the afternoon grows slowly dim, like his fading sight and senses. He murmurs twice in a faint, drowsy voice._] Coward! Coward! [BLANCHE, _in the hall outside Right, calls his name._ BLANCHE. Dick! [STERLING'S _body relaxes and sets. The letter drops from his lifeless hands._ [BLANCHE _enters with_ RUTH, _followed by_ RICHARD, _who rides a stick with a horse's head and wears a soldier's cap._ RICHARD. Merry Christmas, father! BLANCHE. [_Going toward the sofa._] Dick! RICHARD. Merry Christmas, father! BLANCHE. Sh! Father's asleep. [_They steal back toward the other door when_ WARDEN _enters Right._ WARDEN. Oh, you are here! I went down into the drawing-room where I left you. BLANCHE. Sh! [_She points to_ STERLING, _who lies apparently asleep. They speak in lowered voices._ WARDEN. Yes, I have a message for you from him. [_Looking at_ RICHARD _and_ RUTH. RUTH. [_Who understands._] Come, Richard, I haven't seen your tree yet. [_She goes out Right with_ RICHARD. WARDEN. [_To_ BLANCHE.] Give me your hand. [_She does so wonderingly._ WARDEN. [_Softly, with a man's tenderness in his voice._] He is going away for good. BLANCHE. Away? WARDEN. For good. BLANCHE. [_Slowly, withdrawing her hand._] For good? [_She looks over toward_ STERLING, _and then back to_ WARDEN.] What does he mean? WARDEN. We will know when he wakes. THE CURTAIN STEALS SOFTLY DOWN