So late?
TREBELL. It's a matter of life and death.
FRANCES. Are you joking?
TREBELL. Yes. If you want to spoil me find me a book to read.
FRANCES. What will you have?
TREBELL. Huckleberry Finn. It's on a top shelf towards the end somewhere ...
or should be.
_She finds the book. On her way back with it she stops and shivers._
FRANCES. I don't think I shall sleep to-night. Poor Amy O'Connell!
TREBELL. [_Curiously._] Are you afraid of death?
FRANCES. [_With humorous stoicism._] It will be the end of me, perhaps.
_She gives him the book, with its red cover; the '86 edition, a boy's
friend evidently. He fingers it familiarly._
TREBELL. Thank you. Mark Twain's a jolly fellow. He has courage ... comic
courage. That's what's wanted. Nothing stands against it. You be-little
yourself by laughing ... then all this world and the last and the next grow
little too ... and so you grow great again. Switch off some light, will you?
FRANCES. [_Clicking off all but his reading lamp._] So?
TREBELL. Thanks. Good night, Frankie.
_She turns at the door, with a glad smile._
FRANCES. Good night. When did you last use that nursery name?
_Then she goes, leaving him still fingering the book, but looking into
the fire and far beyond. Behind him through the open window one sees
how cold and clear the night is.
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