MURRAY (_irritably_). You make me ill when you talk that way, Eileen. It doesn't sound like you at all. What's come over you lately? Get a grip on yourself, for God's sake. I was--knocked out--when I read the note you slipped me after supper. I didn't get a chance to read it until late, I was so busy packing, and by that time you'd gone to your cottage. If I could have reached you any way I'd have refused to come here, I tell you straight. But I couldn't--and I knew you'd be here waiting--and--still, I feel guilty. Damn it, this isn't the thing for you! You ought to be in bed asleep. Can't you look out for yourself? EILEEN (_humbly_). Please, Stephen, don't scold me. MURRAY. How the devil did you ever get the idea--meeting me here at this ungodly hour? EILEEN. You'd told me about your sneaking out that night to go to the village, and I thought there'd be no harm this one night--the last night. MURRAY. But I'm well. I've been well. It's different. You---- Honest, Eileen, you shouldn't lose sleep and tax your strength. EILEEN. Don't scold me, please. I'll make up for it. I'll rest all the time--after you're gone. I just had to see you some way--somewhere where there weren't eyes and ears on all sides--when you told me after dinner that Doctor Stanton had examined you and said you could go to-morrow---- (_A clock in the distant village begins striking._) Sssh! Listen. MURRAY. That's twelve now. You see I was early. (_In a pause of silence they wait motionlessly until the last mournful note dies in the hushed woods._) EILEEN (_in a stifled voice_). It isn't to-morrow now, is it? It's to-day--the day you're going. MURRAY (_something in her voice making him avert his face and kick at the heap of stones on which she is sitting--brusquely_). Well, I hope you took precautions so you wouldn't be caught sneaking out. EILEEN. I did just what you'd told me you did--stuffed the pillows under the clothes so the watchman would think I was there. MURRAY. None of the patients on your porch saw you leave, did they? EILEEN. No. They were all asleep. MURRAY. That's all right, then. I wouldn't trust any of that bunch of women. They'd be only too glad to squeal on you. (_There is an uncomfortable pause._ Murray _seems waiting for her to speak. He looks about him at the trees, up into the moonlit sky, breathing in the fresh air with a healthy delight._ Eileen _remains with downcast head, staring at the road._) It's beautiful to-night, isn't it? Worth losing sleep for. EILEEN (_dully_). Yes. (_Another pause--finally she murmurs faintly._) Are you leaving early? MURRAY. The ten-forty. Leave the San at ten, I guess. EILEEN. You're going home? MURRAY. Home? You mean to the town? No. But I'm going to see my sisters--just to say hello. I've got to, I suppose. I won't stay more than a few days, if I can help it. EILEEN. I'm sure--I've often felt--you're unjust to your sisters. (_With conviction._) I'm sure they must both love you.