RAINA (with dignity, reproving her). Thanks, Louka; but we must
do what we are told. (Louka makes a grimace.) Good-night.

LOUKA (carelessly). Good-night. (She goes out, swaggering.)

(Raina, left alone, goes to the chest of drawers,
and adores the portrait there with feelings that
are beyond all expression. She does not kiss it or
press it to her breast, or shew it any mark of
bodily affection; but she takes it in her hands
and elevates it like a priestess.)

RAINA (looking up at the picture with worship.) Oh, I shall
never be unworthy of you any more, my hero--never, never, never.

(She replaces it reverently, and selects a novel
from the little pile of books. She turns over the
leaves dreamily; finds her page; turns the book
inside out at it; and then, with a happy sigh,
gets into bed and prepares to read herself to
sleep. But before abandoning herself to fiction,
she raises her eyes once more, thinking of the
blessed reality and murmurs)

My hero! my hero!

(A distant shot breaks the quiet of the night
outside. She starts, listening; and two more
shots, much nearer, follow, startling her so that