Requiem for a Nun

224 WILLIAM FAULKNER

pushes the ashtray along the table until she can reach it. Now she looks

at him.

TEMPLE

Thanks. Now let grandmamma teach you how to suck an egg. It doesn't

matter what I know, what you think I know, what might have happened.

Because we wont even need it. All we need is an affidavit. That she is

crazy. Has been for years.

STEVENS

I thought of that too. Only it's too late. That should have been done

about five months ago. The trial is over now. She has been convicted

and sentenced. In the eyes of the law, she is already dead. In the

eyes of the law, Nancy Mannigoe doesn't even exist. Even if there

wasn't a better reason than that. The best reason of all.

TEMPLE

(smoking) Yes?

STEVENS

We haven't got one.

TEMPLE

(smoking) Yes?

(she sits back in the chair smoking rapidly, looking at

Stevens. Her voice is gentle, patient, only a little too

rapid, like the smoking)

That's right. Try to listen. Really try. I am the affidavit; what else

are we doing here at ten o'clock at night barely a day from her

execution? What else did I-as you put it-come all the way back from

California for, not to mention a-as you have probably put that

too-faked coincidence to save-as I would put it I suppose-my face? All

we need now is to decide just how much of what to put in the

affidavit. Do try; maybe you had better have a drink after all.

STEVENS

Later, maybe. I'm dizzy enough right now with just perjury and

contempt of court.