The dark figure (now wearing a hat) steps into the room and turns out to be the not at all Reverend Gregory Trask. For once completely off guard, Evan gabbles that he and Quentin (still out cold) were playing an intellectual game. Trask comments on Quentin's far from intellectual state, tells Evan that they have business to discuss later, then walks out. Quentin revives to find Evan frantic with worry that Trask will blab. As Evan takes off his robe, Quentin realizes they didn’t make contact. Evan is frantic with worry. He frets, What about the reputation of Evan Hanley, the respectable lawyer? If someone found out-- But Quentin finds it uproariously funny: You would be reduced to a little man, no bigger than the rest of us. What if he tells Judith? Evan rages. It’s your fault for being drunk! I had good reason, Quentin retorts, and little time. He tries to get Evan to try again. But Evan refuses, saying, I’ve worked too hard to see everything I’ve got destroyed. Please, you’ve got to help me! Quentin implores him. I can’t help you, Evan insists. I hope you get everything that’s coming to you! Quentin rages. Evan retorts, If I get into trouble, people will ask why: When Evan Hanley suffers, Quentin had better watch out. As Quentin lunges for him, Evan cruelly advises him, Save your animal instincts for tomorrow night--you’ll need them. I could kill you! Quentin snarls. I believe you, Evan answers calmly--now get out!
Quentin is drinking again when Minerva Trask shows up at Collinwood to give Judith some jam for her breakfast. Without much interest in the matter, Quentin tells her that Trask and Judith are out--together. Minerva calmly sits down to wait. Quentin hospitably offers her a drink. Predictably, Minerva replies, I don’t drink. My husband wouldn’t approve. Quentin comments, There you sit, devotedly waiting for your husband to come home, jar of preserves in hand. Minerva starts looking a little doubtful as Quentin says, My sister admires your husband. Then, maybe out of boredom, Quentin takes a flyer: Judith nips at the brandy herself frequently--and you both admire her. Minerva murmurs, They always do drink--and go to the theater. She decides to leave, and carefully places the jar of preserves on the table. With exaggerated politeness, Quentin says, Can I give your husband a message--when he brings my sister home. No, Minerva says tartly, I’ll speak to him later.
Quentin is STILL drinking when Evan phones to patch things up. He's worried about the price Trask will demand for his silence until Quentin tells him (E.) that he (Q.) has learned something that will lower Trask's price. He tells Evan about his conversation with Minerva.
When Trask returns to the school, he and Minerva almost immediately have a violent quarrel. Minerva rails about his interest in wealthy women. Trask says it was all for the sake of the school. You never cared about the school, Minerva retorts. All you cared about was taking those women to restaurants and the theater and planning worldwide trips! The women didn't take you seriously! she sneers. Trask shouts back, Your hysterical charges are a constant embarrassment to me! I will see an end to them! he vows. He prepares to go out again, and Minerva asks, Are you going to see Judith Collins? Trask says, Yes--I want the school to be a monument to both of us--something that will be remembered forever--even after you and I are _DEAD_.
As Evan anticipated, Trask makes a return visit. I see you’ve put away your _playthings_, Trask observes. You were calling upon the devil--but you got _me_. It was all for intellect, Evan insists. It was just an experiment. I don’t believe you, Trask replies. He threatens to tell Judith what he saw and heard of Evan’s “interests.” Evan replies, I’m interested in many things, and I pursue them the way other men pursue _women_. It’s just a passing phase. Soon I’ll move on to other things, the way other men and _women_ do. Thus goaded, Trask gets to the point: You’re a satanist, he tells Evan, and you’d better not deny it. Eventually Evan allows as how he is “more familiar” with such things than most men. I’m a merciful man, Trask says. For your honesty, I am willing to spare you from exposure. Evan says, I know you want something from me--tell me what my reputation is worth. Trask answers, I hope you’re good at those Black Arts--very good indeed.
Tim Shaw is grading papers in the classroom when Minerva criticizes him for being too lenient in the matter of blotted pages and for letting one student off the hook for what Minerva regards as cheating. Trask comes in and observes, not everyone shares your suspicious mind, Minerva. Where were you? she asks. I was out seeing a lawyer about our lease, he replies. He asks her to leave; she obeys, but not happily. After an oblique compliment on Tim’s prowess in Latin, Trask asks, Are you happy here at Worthington Hall? Tim says warily, You taught me to endure it. Under Trask’s continued questioning, he finally admits he isn’t happy. Then Trask utterly floors Tim by suggesting, Perhaps you and Charity should go away together and start a new life together. He adds, The lawyer I saw has a Latin book he wants you to translate. Perhaps you could get a job through Mr. Hanley. You would really let me go? Tim wonders. Wouldn’t you miss your daughter? Trask admits he would: But I would still have Mrs. Trask. Incredulous, Tim says, I want to apologize to you for misjudging you in the past. Trask answers, I’ve never misjudged _you_ for a moment. I have always known exactly what you are.
Evan uses a mortar and pestle to grind a powder, which he pours into a beaker to make a foamy liquid. Trask phones him to say that Tim has just left the school. All will be ready when Tim arrives, Evan assures Trask. All I have to do is paint the edges of the book with the potion. Are you sure it will work? Trask wonders. Evan explains, I will then ask Tim to do a précis (he says “pree-say”) of the book. By the time he’s done, our purpose will be accomplished. Tim has airs about his Latin, Trask sneers. I’m glad he’ll be able to use it in such a useful way.
Evan’s drawing-room clock reads 1:40 a.m. Tim seems to have been working on the book for some time. He finds it hard to turn the pages and has resorted to licking his fingertip. Evan comes in to check on his progress. I’m half done, the young scholar says. I’m having no trouble with the Latin, just the thin pages. Your method of licking your finger, then flipping each page works well, Evan comments as he watches carefully. Others have always teased me about that habit, Tim replies humorlessly. Evan says, Never mind--in this case, that’s exactly the right thing to do.
At 3:10, Tim drops the book as Evan’s potion finally takes effect. He is apparently in a semiconscious stupor. Who are you? Evan asks him. I don’t know, Tim mutters vaguely. Evan doesn’t enlighten him but tells him, I want you to listen very carefully. On a certain night and time, on a given signal--you are going to kill someone. Tim nods obediently....
