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Fitch, Clyde, 1865-1909

"The Climbers A Play in Four Acts"

Damn you both! then it's the _end_ of _me!_
[_He pulls out a pistol and tries to put it to his temple._
BLANCHE. [_Cries out._] Ned!
WARDEN. [_Seizes_ STERLING, _catches his arm, and wrenches the pistol
from him._] So that's what you planned to do, is it--make a wretched
scene like that?
[_It begins to snow more heavily._
STERLING. [_In utter collapse and shame._] Why did you stop me? I'm
better out of the world. I'm crazy with shame. First I disgraced and now
I've insulted--_degraded_--the only living thing I care for,--that's my
wife.
[_A moment's pause._
BLANCHE. [_Speaks quietly._] Come back to the house. Mr. Mason is
looking for you; he has something to tell you.
STERLING. I know--more bad news.
BLANCHE. No, good.
STERLING. [_Echoes._] Good! [_Starting to go, he turns at the porch._] I
want _you_ to know that _I_ know I'm a rotten beast.
[_He goes out Left._
WARDEN. You're going back _home_?
BLANCHE. "_Home!_" [_With a faint smile._] I should hardly call it that.
WARDEN. [_Aside to her._] You're not afraid?
BLANCHE. [_Half smiling._] Oh, no! And my boy's there.
[_The thick falling snow almost hides them, but they are unconscious of
it._
WARDEN. What's to be done?
BLANCHE. Wait; we'll see--we'll see--let it be something we could never
regret.


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