little carpet bag in his hand.

DAVID. That's him.

JAMES. He slunk into the rhodydendrons, and he's there now, watching
the window.

DAVID. We have him. Out with the light.

[The room is beautified by a chandelier fitted for three gas jets,
but with the advance of progress one of these has been removed and
the incandescent light put in its place. This alone is lit. ALICK
climbs a chair, pulls a little chain, and the room is now but vaguely
lit by the fire. It plays fitfully on four sparkling faces.]

MAGGIE. Do you think he saw you, James?

JAMES. I couldn't say, but in any case I was too clever for him. I
looked up at the stars, and yawned loud at them as if I was
tremendous sleepy.

[There is a long pause during which they are lurking in the shadows.
At last they hear some movement, and they steal like ghosts from the
room. We see DAVID turning out the lobby light; then the door closes
and an empty room awaits the intruder with a shudder of expectancy.
The window opens and shuts as softly as if this were a mother peering
in to see whether her baby is asleep. Then the head of a man shows
between the curtains. The remainder of him follows. He is carrying a
little carpet bag. He stands irresolute; what puzzles him evidently
is that the Wylies should have retired to rest without lifting that