used to do. And put the
grapes nearer, so that he can reach them.

_[The Wife goes out. Man lies down on the sofa, his head toward the
spot where Someone in Gray stands immobile, so that His hand almost
touches Man's gray, dishevelled hair. Man falls asleep quickly._

SOMEONE IN GRAY

Man has fallen into a sound, sweet sleep, deceived by hope. His breath
is soft as a child's, his heart beats calmly and evenly, bringing
him relief. He knows not that in a few moments his son will die. In
mysterious dream-fancies a picture of impossible happiness arises
before him.

It seems to him that he and his son are drifting in a white boat along
a beautiful, quiet stream. It seems to him that it is a glorious day,
and he sees the deep sky and the transparent crystal water. He hears
the rustling of the reeds as they part before the boat. It seems to
him that he is happy and glad. All his feelings betray him.

Suddenly he is disturbed. The terrible truth has entered through the
thick veil of sleep and stung his thoughts.

"Why is your golden hair cut so short, my boy? Why?"

"I had a headache, papa, that's why."

And deceived once more, he feels happy again, sees the deep sky, and
hears the rustling of the parting reeds.

He knows not that his son is already dying. He hears not how, in a
last senseless hope, with a child's faith in the power of adults, his
son is calling him without words, with his heart: "Papa, papa, I am
dying! Hold me!" Man sleeps soundly and sweetly, and in the deceptive,
mysterious fancies there arises before him the picture of impossible
happiness. Awake, Man! Your son is dead.

_[Man lifts his head, frightened, and rises._

MAN

Ha! What is it? I thought I heard someone call me.

_[At that moment many women behind the scenes burst into a wail--the
loud, long-drawn wail over the dead. The Wife enters, frightfully
pale._

MAN

Dead?

WIFE

Yes, he is dead.

MAN

Did he call me?

WIFE

No, he never awoke. He didn't call anyone. He is dead--my son, my
dear, darling boy!

_[She falls on her knees before Man and sobs, clasping his knees. Man
puts his hand on her hand and, turning to the corner where Someone in
Gray stands indifferently, speaks in a sobbing, but terrible voice._

MAN

You insulted a woman, scoundrel! You killed a boy! _(His Wife sobs.
Man softly strokes her hair with his trembling hand)_ Don't cry, my
dear, don't cry. He will scoff at our tears, just as He scoffed