JAMES: But I don’t where it is, Anne.

ANNE: You’ve seen me going there often enough. Down the path by the laurels. You can’t miss it. Good night, Daddy. (She kisses her father.) Good night, Dr. Baston (stiffly).

BASTON: Good night, Anne. (Sententiously): It’s a good thing when a sad day ends.

ANNE: Oh, it wasn’t all sad, was it? I thought it was awfully funny when Spot came bounding along looking for Uncle James, and you dropped the ashes.

BASTON: It wasn’t very nice for your grandmother. It spoiled the ceremony.

ANNE: You were just saying, “I now consign to the river …” You could have altered it quickly and said, “I now consign to Long Meadow.”

JOHN: Do go to bed, Anne.

ANNE (pausing at the door): You won’t forget the water, Uncle James?

He shakes his head. Anne leaves.

BASTON: How heartless children are.

JOHN: Oh, I don’t think she meant it that way. She was being practical, that’s all. Her mother was the same. Help yourselves to whisky.

BASTON: Thanks. It was unfortunate you brought that dog.

JAMES: I know. I forgot. (They help themselves.) Was Mother asleep when you went upstairs?

JOHN: She seemed to be.

JAMES: You’ll say good-bye for me, won’t you? Say I’m sorry I butted in.

BASTON: You exaggerate.

JAMES: Do I? (A pause while he looks at the visitors’ book again.) Fancy a Callifer being a priest.

BASTON: As a priest he hasn’t been exactly a success.

JAMES: People believe, don’t they, some of them, that the spirits of the dead will pass over a glass of wine, rippling the surface? (He regards his whisky.) Will whisky do? Can you invoke the dead with whisky?

JOHN: What nonsense you talk, James.

BASTON (dryly): It’s the method your uncle is said to use.

JAMES: You mean he drinks?

BASTON: Inordinately.

JAMES: How unlike a Callifer. Well, I’m going to bed.

BASTON: Don’t forget the dog.

JAMES: Oh, the dog. (Something disturbs him.) Surely he can do without water just tonight. (He goes to the garden window and looks out at the dark.) He’s asleep. And it’s late. It will do in the morning.

JOHN: So long as he doesn’t wake Mother with his howling.

JAMES: Couldn’t you do it, John? It’s very dark outside. You know the way.

JOHN: And be bitten at the end of it? Look after your own dog, James.

JAMES: I’ve forgotten where the potting shed is.

JOHN: Anne told you. Down the laurel walk. You can’t miss it. And there’s a flashlight on the hall table.

A distant howl.

BASTON: Listen. He is howling.