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LADY (softly). What are you looking at? NAPOLEON (pointing up). My star.

LADY. You believe in that?

NAPOLEON. I do. (They look at it for a moment, she leaning a little on his shoulder.)

LADY. Do you know that the English say that a man’s star is not complete without a woman’s garter?

NAPOLEON (scandalized–abruptly shaking her off and coming back into the room). Pah! The hypocrites! If the French said that, how they would hold up their hands in pious horror! (He goes to the inner door and holds it open, shouting) Hallo! Giuseppe. Where’s that light, man. (He comes between the table and the sideboard, and moves the chair to the table, beside his own.) We have still to burn the letter. (He takes up the packet. Giuseppe comes back, pale and still trembling, carrying a branched candlestick with a couple of candles alight, in one hand, and a broad snuffers tray in the other.)

GIUSEPPE (piteously, as he places the light on the table). Excellency: what were you looking up at just now–out there? (He points across his shoulder to the vineyard, but is afraid to look round.)

NAPOLEON (unfolding the packet). What is that to you?

GIUSEPPE (stammering). Because the witch is gone–vanished; and no one saw her go out.

LADY (coming behind him from the vineyard). We were watching her riding up to the moon on your broomstick, Giuseppe. You will never see her again.

GIUSEPPE. Gesu Maria! (He crosses himself and hurries out.)

NAPOLEON (throwing down the letters in a heap on the table). Now. (He sits down at the table in the chair which be has just placed.)

LADY. Yes; but you know you have THE letter in your pocket. (He smiles; takes a letter from his pocket; and tosses it on the top of the heap. She holds it up and looks at him, saying) About Caesar’s wife.

NAPOLEON. Caesar’s wife is above suspicion. Burn it.

LADY (taking up the snuffers and holding the letter to the candle flame with it). I wonder would Caesar’s wife be above suspicion if she saw us here together!

NAPOLEON (echoing her, with his elbows on the table and his cheeks on his hands, looking at the letter). I wonder! (The Strange Lady puts the letter down alight on the snuffers tray, and sits down beside Napoleon, in the same attitude, elbows on table, cheeks on hands, watching it burn. When it is burnt, they simultaneously turn their eyes and look at one another. The curtain steals down and hides them.)