n by night
and strike in the darkness, they should come by day when the sun's
shining. Now they've come!

STRANGER. And that pleases you!

LADY. Yes. Almost.

STRANGER. What a pity it gives me no pleasure when it's you who's
struck! Let's sit down on the seat--the bench for the accused. For more
are coming.

LADY. I'd rather we went.

STRANGER. No, I want to see how much I can bear. You see, at every
stroke of the lash I feel as if a debit entry had been erased from my
ledger.

LADY. But I can stand no more. Look, there he comes himself. Heavens!
This man, whom I once thought I loved!

STRANGER. Thought? Yes, because everything's merely delusion. And that
means a great deal. You go! I'll take the duty on myself of confronting
him alone.

(The LADY goes up the steps, but does not reach the toy before the
DOCTOR becomes visible at the back of the stage. The DOCTOR comes in,
his grey hair long and unkempt. He is wearing a tropical helmet and a
hunting coat, which are exactly similar to the clothes of the STRANGER.
He behaves as though he doesn't notice the STRANGER'S presence, and sits
down on a stone on the other side of the road, opposite the STRANGER,
who is sitting on the seat. He takes of his hat and mops the sweat from
his brow. The STRANGER grows impatient.) What do you want?

DOCTOR. Only to see this house again, where my happiness once dwelt and
my roses blossomed....

STRANGER. An intelligent man of the world would have chosen a time when
the present inhabitants of the house were away for a short while; even
on his own account, so as not to make himself ridiculous.

DOCTOR. Ridiculous? I'd like to know which of us two's the more
ridiculous?

STRANGER. For the moment, I suppose I am.

DOCTOR. Yes. But I don't think you know the whole extent of your
wretchedness.

STRANGER. What do you mean?

DOCTOR. That you want to possess what I used to possess.

STRANGER. Well, go on.

DOCTOR. Have you noticed that we're wearing similar clothes? Good! Do
you know the reason? It's this: you're wearing the things I forgot to
fetch when the catastrophe took place. No intelligent man of the world
at the end of the nineteenth century would ever put himself into such a
position.

STRANGER (throwing down his hat and coat). Curse the woman!

DOCTOR. You needn't complain. Cast-off male attire has always been fatal
ever since the celebrated shirt of Nessus. Go in now and change. I'll
sit out here and watch, an