JACK
(Freezes)
I—I don’t . . .
MRS. BENTHAM
. . . Wish it known? Understandable, given the circumstances—
JACK
No, what I mean is—I don’t believe I know it myself.
MRS. BENTHAM
Not at all?
JACK
(Not really answering)
Mmm. And yet . . . my mind’s so clean, suddenly. So clear.
MRS. BENTHAM
That would be a result of Dr. Purl’s treatment. Well, it will all
come back, I promise you.
JACK
Must it? Perhaps I don’t want it to.
MRS. BENTHAM
You will, soon enough. Go to sleep now.
(Puts the cloth back in the basin)
Stephen—that was my husband’s name. I’ll call you that for
now, shall I? How does it sound?
JACK
(Falling asleep)
Very . . . nice.
As MRS. BENTHAM squeezes out the cloth once more, water in the bowl SLOSHES back and forth. OVER WHICH WE—
BRING UP the SOUND OF WAVES LAPPING GENTLY, drowning out the BIRDS. HOLD for a moment.
OVER, as before:
JACK
I remember that.