CLAIRE: (_in her brooding way_) Anything is important enough for
that--if it's important at all. (_to the vine_) I thought you were out,
but you're--going back home.
ANTHONY: But you're doing it this time, Miss Claire. When Breath of Life
opens--and we see its heart--
(CLAIRE _looks toward the inner room. Because of intervening plants they
do not see what is seen from the front--a plant like caught motion, and
of a greater transparency than plants have had. Its leaves, like waves
that curl, close around a heart that is not seen. This plant stands by
itself in what, because of the arrangement of things about it, is a
hidden place. But nothing is between it and the light_.)
CLAIRE: Yes, if the heart has (_a little laugh_) held its own, then
Breath of Life is alive in its otherness. But Edge Vine is running back
to what it broke out of.
HARRY: Come, have some coffee, Claire.
(ANTHONY _returns to the inner room, the outer door opens_. DICK _is
hurled in_.)
CLAIRE: (_going to the door, as he gasps for breath before closing it_)
How dare you make my temperature uneven! (_she shuts the door and leans
against it_)
DICK: Is that what I do?
(_A laugh, a look between them, which is held into significance_.
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