[Stepping from behind Christmas tree, in a low growl of fanatical hatred.] " Sic semper tyrannis!"
[He is going up towards window, when the upper door opens, and Sir Robert Temple enters the room. The two men come face to face.
Sir Robert.
Who are you?
Otto.
[Dazed, appalled.] Where am I? What have I
done?
Sir Robert.
[Seeing the figure on the floor, and going down to it.]
Out of the way! What's this?
[He lifts the figure on to the sofa. It is Margaret. She is unconscious.
Otto.
[Awakening from his stupor and approaching.] Margaret!
Sir Robert.
Stand back! [Opening the overcoat the girl is wearing.] Through the lung—internal haemorrhage! [He rises, goes hurriedly to desk, calls on telephone.] Sir
Malcolm—come back at once—fetch a doctor—quickly! [Putting back the receiver, he sees Margaret's letter. He takes it up and begins to read it.] "Forgive
me! I was compelled to deceive you——"
[He stops. His face expresses amazement and deep emotion. He reads the rest of the letter to himself. Meantime Otto, in an agony of remorse, has flung himself on his knees by Margaret's side.
