AGNUS Who? Noel Onfroy! Yes—I’m mad—overwork, I suppose—(_suddenly clouded_) worry! I don’t wonder I’m mad; I don’t wonder! (_Feels his head and closes his eyes_) THE DEVIL Oh, too bad he’s married. I should have thought of that before. I’d rather be a single Dutch comedian than a married Adonis. It’s bad enough being tied to one human body, let alone two. (_Looks around and sees that the light has disappeared_) The Dutchman’s gone, eh? He goes back to his foolish attic every now and then to see if the police have found any bombs yet. There are seven sewed up in the mattress—and I don’t dare take them out of the house for fear the police may be watching for a man with a suit-case. That Dutchman will get me in jail yet. AGNUS (_holding his head and looking at The Devil between the palms of his hands_) You use singularly unclassical language for the Fount of All Wisdom— THE DEVIL The American language. When I’m in England, I use English.—By the way, are _you_ married? AGNUS I? (_Holds his head harder_) THE DEVIL (_understanding_) Not, eh? Well? (_He rises, advancing on Agnus, viewing him speculatively, and finally approvingly_) AGNUS (_alarmed, dimly conscious_) Here! What now? THE DEVIL (_fixing his eyes on Agnus_) You don’t believe in me? AGNUS Why—er—what are you doing? (_In panic_) Don’t look at me like that. (_He starts up_) THE DEVIL Sit down! [_Agnus struggles but sits down._ THE DEVIL You called for me to help you. I’m going to. (_He goes to the windows and pulls down the blinds_) AGNUS Here! What! (_He tries to rise but only sits starkly upright with staring eyes. A faint luminosity glows over his head_) [_The Devil pulls up the chair close; their knees touch. He leans forward, staring into Agnus’s eyes. The luminosity grows brighter about Agnus’s head, rises little by little, flickers and flutters. Meanwhile a dull crimson light has glowed over The Devil’s head, and now it grows steadily and moves across the space until it rests on Agnus’s head, where it settles and sinks downward, disappearing._ THE DEVIL (_rising, in Agnus’s body_) Take the Dutchman’s body, doctor—I’ve got yours—(_A second luminosity glows at window_) Quick! Here comes the Dutchman back. Take his body, or you’ll be homeless. It’s not much but it’s the only one I’ve got to give you. Quick! I need you! [_Each of the two luminosities dart toward the senseless body. One settles and disappears. The other flies viciously around and around the head. The Devil lets up the shades, shaking with laughter._ THE DEVIL I hardly dare ask so impertinent a question—but which soul won? AGNUS (_in the Dutchman’s body_) You scoundrel! You fiend! You blackguard! THE DEVIL That might be either! The language of men is strikingly similar under great loss. Who are you? The rightful owner or an usurper? AGNUS (_shaking and trembling with rage_) Give me back my body, or I’ll kill you— THE DEVIL