He mutters, staring at the fire.]
[Flames-flame, and flicker-ashes.]
"No more, no more, the moon is dead, And all the people in it."
[He sits on the couch with a piece of paper on his knees, adding
a few words with a stylo pen to what is already written.]
[The GIRL, in a silk wrapper, coming back through the curtains,
watches him.]
LARRY. [Looking up] It's all here--I've confessed. [Reading]
"Please bury us together."
"LAURENCE DARRANT.
"January 28th, about six p.m."
They'll find us in the morning. Come and have supper, my dear love.
[The girl creeps forward. He rises, puts his arm round her, and
with her arm twined round him, smiling into each other's faces,
they go to the table and sit down.]
The curtain falls for a few seconds to indicate the passage of
three hours. When it rises again, the lovers are lying on the
couch, in each other's arms, the lilies stream about them. The
girl's bare arm is round LARRY'S neck. Her eyes are closed; his
are open and sightless.
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