BRODIE (RECOILING). No, don't touch me, not a finger, not that, anything but that!
MARY. Willie, Willie!
BRODIE (TAKING THE BLOODY DAGGER FROM THE TABLE). See, do you understand that?
MARY. Ah! What, what is it!
BRODIE. Blood. I have killed a man.
MARY. You? . . . .
BRODIE. I am a murderer; I was a thief before. Your brother . . . the old man's only son!
MARY. Walter, Walter, come to me!
BRODIE. Now you see that I must die; now you see that I stand upon the grave's edge, all my lost life behind me, like a horror to think upon, like a frenzy, like a dream that is past. And you, you are alone. Father, brother, they are gone from you; one to heaven, one . . . . !
MARY. Hush, dear, hush! Kneel, pray; it is not too late to repent. Think of our father dear; repent. (SHE WEEPS, STRAINING
