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No. [Feeling for the knife under coat.] Where is it? Where did you put it? [Stonily.] Left side. That's right—over your heart. [Feels it.] Ah—there it is—there—there's the blade—quite a big fellow, isn't it—ah, here it begins to get narrower. [Reaches the tip of the knife.] And here is its eye—that's what it sees with. ['' enters from the kitchen, passes them slowly, watching them in silent terror, then stops. nudges .''] Sing, come on, sing! [In a quavering voice.] "Look out for the damn police." [Joining in, cheerily, loudly, marking time with the swaying of his body.] "Look out, look out, my pretty lad." "—look out, my pretty lad." ['' goes out at back. glance follows her. When she has''