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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/7765.txt b/7765.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0f1d8ef --- /dev/null +++ b/7765.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5214 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Night Must Fall, by Emlyn Williams + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: Night Must Fall + +Author: Emlyn Williams + +Posting Date: March 8, 2015 [EBook #7765] +Release Date: March, 2005 +First Posted: May 15, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NIGHT MUST FALL *** + + + + +Produced by Georgia Young, Tiffany Vergon, Charles +Aldarondo, Charles Franks, and the Online Distributed +Proofreaders Team + + + + + + + + + + +EMLYN WILLIAMS + +NIGHT MUST FALL + +A PLAY IN THREE ACTS + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +THE PERFORMING RIGHTS OF THIS PLAY ARE FULLY PROTECTED, AND PERMISSION +TO PERFORM IT, WHETHER BY AMATEURS OR PROFESSIONALS, MUST BE GAINED IN +ADVANCE FROM THE AUTHOR'S SOLE AGENT, WALTER PEACOCK, 60 HAYMARKET, +LONDON, S.W. I. + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BY THE VAN REES PRESS + +EH + +_To_ M. W. + +THE CHARACTERS + +(_in the order of their appearance_) + +THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE +MRS. BRAMSON +OLIVIA GRAYNE Her niece +HUBERT LAURIE +NURSE LIBBY +MRS. TERENCE Mrs. Bramson's cook +DORA PARKOE Her maid +INSPECTOR BELSIZE +DAN + +BEFORE THE PLAY + +The Court of Criminal Appeal + +_The action of the play takes place in the sitting-room of Forest +Corner, Mrs. Bramson's bungalow in Essex._ + +_The time is the present_. + +ACT I: A morning in October. + +ACT II SCENE I: An afternoon twelve days later. SCENE II: Late +afternoon, two days later. + +ACT III SCENE I: Half an hour later. Nightfall. SCENE II: Half an hour +later. + + + +BEFORE THE PLAY + +_The orchestra plays light tunes until the house lights are turned +down; the curtain rises in darkness, accompanied by solemn music. A +small light grows in the middle of the stage, and shows the_ LORD +CHIEF JUSTICE _sitting in judgment, wearing wig and red robes of +office, in the Court of Criminal Appeal. His voice, cold and +disapproving, gradually swells up with the light as he reaches his +peroration_. + +LORD CHIEF JUSTICE: ... and there is no need to recapitulate here the +arguments for and against this point of law, which we heard in the long +and extremely fair summing up at the trial of the appellant at the +Central Criminal Court. The case was clearly put to the jury; and it is +against sentence of death for these two murders that the prisoner now +appeals. Which means that the last stage of this important and +extremely horrible case has now been reached. On a later page in the +summing up, the learned judge said this ... (_turning over +papers_) ... "This case has, through the demeanour of the prisoner +in the witness-box, obtained the most widespread and scandalous +publicity, which I would beg you most earnestly, members of the jury, +to forget." I cannot help thinking that the deplorable atmosphere of +sentimental melodrama which has pervaded this trial has made the +_theatre_ a more fitting background for it than a court of law; +but we are in a court of law, nevertheless, and the facts have been +placed before the court. A remarkable and in my opinion praiseworthy +feature of the case has been that the sanity of the prisoner has never +been called into question; and, like the learned judge, the Court must +dismiss as mischievous pretence the attitude of this young man who +stands convicted of two brutal murders in cold blood. This case has, +from beginning to end, exhibited no feature calling for sympathy; the +evidence has on every point been conclusive, and on this evidence the +jury have convicted the appellant. In the opinion of the Court there is +no reason to interfere with that conviction, and this appeal must be +dismissed. + +_The chords of solemn music are heard again, and the stage gradually +darkens. A few seconds later the music merges into the sound of church +bells playing far away, and the lights come up on_. + + + +ACT I + +_The sitting-room of Forest Corner_, MRS. BRAMSON'S _bungalow in +a forest in Essex, A fine morning in October. + +Centre back, a small hall; in its left side the front door of the house +(throughout the play, "left" and "right" refer to the audience's left +and right). Thick plush curtains can be drawn across the entrance to +the hall; they are open at the moment. Windows, one on each side of the +hall, with window-seats and net curtains beyond which can be glimpsed +the pine-trees of the forest. In the left wall, upstage, a door leading +to the kitchen. In the left wall, downstage, the fireplace; above it, a +cretonne-covered sofa, next to a very solid cupboard built into the +wall; below it a cane armchair. In the right wall, upstage, a door +leading to _MRS. BRAMSON'S _bedroom. In the right wall, downstage, +wide-open paned doors leading to the sun-room. Right downstage, next +the sun-room, a large dining-table with four straight chairs round it. +Between the bedroom and the sun-room, a desk with books on it, a +cupboard below it, and a hanging mirror on the wall above. Above the +bedroom, a corner medicine cupboard. Between the hall and the right +window, an occasional table. + +The bungalow is tawdry but cheerful; it is built entirely of wood, with +an oil lamp fixed in the wall over the occasional table. The room is +comfortably furnished, though in fussy and eccentric Victorian taste; +stuffed birds, Highland cattle in oils, antimacassars, and wax fruit +are unobtrusively in evidence. On the mantelpiece, an ornate chiming +clock. The remains of breakfast on a tray on the table_. + +MRS. BRAMSON _is sitting in a wheeled chair in the centre of the +room. She is a fussy, discontented, common woman of fifty-five, +old-fashioned both in clothes and coiffure_; NURSE LIBBY, _a kindly, +matter-of-fact young north-country woman in district nurse's uniform, +is sitting on the sofa, massaging one of her hands_. OLIVIA GRAYNE +_sits on the old woman's right; holding a book; she is a subdued +young woman of twenty-eight, her hair tied severely in a knot, wearing +horn-rimmed spectacles; there is nothing in any way remarkable about +her at the moment_. HUBERT LAURIE _is sitting in the armchair, +scanning the "Daily Telegraph." He is thirty-five, moustached, hearty, +and pompous, wearing plus fours and smoking a pipe. + +A pause. The church bells die away_. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): Go on. + +OLIVIA (_reading_): "... Lady Isabel humbly crossed her attenuated +hands upon her chest. 'I am on my way to God,' she whispered, 'to +answer for all my sins and sorrows.' 'Child,' said Miss Carlyle, 'had +_I_ anything to do with sending you from ...' (_turning over_) +'... East Lynne?' Lady Isabel shook her head and cast down +her gaze." + +MRS. BRAMSON (_aggressively_): Now that's what I call a beautiful +character. + +NURSE: Very pretty. But the poor thing'd have felt that much better +tucked up in 'ospital instead of lying about her own home gassing her +'ead off---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Sh! + +NURSE: Sorry. + +OLIVIA (_reading_): "'Thank God,' inwardly breathed Miss Corny.... +'Forgive me,' she said loudly and in agitation. 'I want to see +Archibald,' whispered Lady Isabel." + +MRS. BRAMSON: You don't see many books like _East Lynne_ about +nowadays. + +HUBERT: No, you don't. + +OLIVIA (_reading_): "'I want to see Archibald,' whispered Lady +Isabel. 'I have prayed Joyce to bring him to me, and she will not----'" + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): Olivia! + +OLIVIA: Yes, auntie? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_craftily_): You're not skipping, are you? + +OLIVIA: Am I? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You've missed out about Lady Isabel taking up her cross +and the weight of it killing her. I may be a fool, but I do know +_East Lynne_. + +OLIVIA: Perhaps there were two pages stuck together. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Very convenient when you want your walk, eh? Yes, I +_am_ a fool, I suppose, as well as an invalid. + +OLIVIA: But I thought you were so much better---- + +NURSE: You'd two helpings of bacon at breakfast, remember---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Doctor's orders. You know every mouthful's agony to me. + +HUBERT (_deep in his paper_): There's a man here in Weston-super-Mare +who stood on his head for twenty minutes for a bet, and he hasn't +come to yet. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): I thought this morning I'd never be able +to face the day. + +HUBERT: But last night when you opened the port---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: I've had a relapse since then. My heart's going like +anything. Give me a chocolate. + +OLIVIA _rises and fetches her a chocolate from a large box on the +table._ + +NURSE: How does it feel? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Nasty. (_Munching her chocolate._) I _know_ +it's neuritis. + +NURSE: You know, Mrs. Bramson, what you want isn't massage at all, only +exercise. Your body---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Don't you dictate to me about my body. Nobody here +understands my body or anything else about me. As for sympathy, I've +forgotten the meaning of the word. (_To_ OLIVIA) What's the matter +with your face? + +OLIVIA (_startled_): I--I really don't know. + +MRS. BRAMSON: It's as long as my arm. + +OLIVIA (_drily_): I'm afraid it's made like that. + +_She crosses the room, and comes back again._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: What are you walking up and down for? What's the matter +with you? Aren't you happy here? + +OLIVIA: It's a bit lonely, but I'll get used to it. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Lonely? All these lovely woods? What _are_ you +talking about? Don't you like nature? + +NURSE: Will that be all for to-day? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I suppose it'll have to be. + +NURSE (_rising and taking her bag from the sofa_): Well, I've that +confined lady still waiting in Shepperley. (_Going into the hall_) +Toodle-oo! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Mind you call again Wednesday. In case my neuritis sets +in again. + +NURSE (_turning in the hall_): I will that. And if paralysis pops +up, let me know. Toodle-oo! + +_She marches cheerily out of the front door._ + +MRS. BRAMSON _cannot make up her mind if the last remark is sarcastic +or not. She concentrates on_ OLIVIA. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You know, you mustn't think just because this house is +lonely you're going to get a rise in salary. Oh, no.... I expect you've +an idea I'm worth a good bit of money, haven't you?... It isn't my +money you're after, is it? + +OLIVIA (_setting chairs to rights round the table_): I'm sorry, +but my sense of humour can't stand the strain. I'll have to go. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Can you afford to go? + +OLIVIA (_after a pause, controlling herself_): You know I can't. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Then don't talk such nonsense. Clear the breakfast +things. + +OLIVIA _hesitates, then crosses to the kitchen door._ + +(_Muttering_): Sense of humour indeed, never heard of such a +thing.... + +OLIVIA (_at the door_): Mrs. Terence, will you clear away? + +_She goes to the left window, and looks out._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: You wait, my girl. Pride comes before a fall. Won't catch +a husband with your nose in the air, you know. + +OLIVIA: I don't want a husband. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Don't like men, I suppose? Never heard of them, I +suppose? Don't believe you. See? + +OLIVIA (_resigned_): I see. It's going to be a fine day. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_taking up "East Lynne" from the table_): It'll +cloud over, I expect. + +OLIVIA: I don't think so. The trees look beautiful with the sun on +them. Everything looks so clean. (_Lifting up three books from the +window seat_) Shall I pack the other half of Mrs. Henry Wood? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Mrs. Henry Wood? Who's Mrs. Henry Wood? Pack the other +half of Mrs. Henry Wood? What are you talking about? + +OLIVIA: She wrote your favourite book--_East Lynne_. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_looking at her book_): Oh ... (_Picking a paper +out of it_.) What's this? (_Reading ponderously_) A sonnet. +"The flame of passion is not red but white, not quick but slow--" + +OLIVIA (_going to her and snatching it from her with a cry_): +Don't! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Writing poetry! That's a hobby and a half, I must say! +"Flame of passion ..." _well!_ + +OLIVIA (_crossing to the fireplace_): It's only a silly poem I +amused myself with at college. It's not meant for anybody but me. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You're a dark horse, you are. + +MRS. TERENCE _enters from the kitchen. She is the cook, middle-aged, +Cockney, and fearless. She carries a bunch of roses_. + +MRS. TERENCE (_grimly_): Would you be wanting anything? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes. Clear away. + +MRS. TERENCE: That's Dora's job. Where's Dora? + +OLIVIA: She's gone into the clearing for some firewood. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You can't expect the girl to gather firewood with one +hand and clear breakfast with the other. Clear away. + +MRS. TERENCE (_crossing to the table, under her breath_): All +right, you sour-faced old hag. + +HUBERT _drops his pipe_. MRS. BRAMSON _winces_ and looks +away. MRS. TERENCE clears the table. + +HUBERT (_to_ OLIVIA): What--what was that she said? + +MRS. TERENCE: She 'eard. And then she 'as to save 'er face and pretend +she 'asn't. She knows nobody but me'd stay with 'er a day if I went. + +MRS. BRAMSON: She oughtn't to talk to me like that. I know she steals +my sugar. + +MRS. TERENCE: That's a living lie. (_Going round to her_) Here are +your roses. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You've cut them too young. I knew you would. + +MRS. TERENCE (_taking up her tray and starting for the kitchen_): +Then you come out and pick the ones you want, and you'll only 'ave +yourself to blame. + +MRS. BRAMSON: That's a nice way to talk to an invalid. + +MRS. TERENCE: If you're an invalid, I'm the Prince of Wales. + +_She goes back into the kitchen_. + +OLIVIA: Would you like me to read some more? + +BRAMSON: No. I'm upset for the day now. I'd better see she does pick +the right roses. (_Wheeling herself, muttering_) That woman's a +menace. Good mind to bring an action against her. She ought to be put +away.... (_Shouting_) Wait for me, wait for me! + +_Her voice dies away in the kitchen. The kitchen door closes_. +HUBERT _and_ OLIVIA _are alone_. + +OLIVIA: That's the fifth action she's threatened to bring this week. +(_She crosses to the right window._) + +HUBERT: She's a good one to talk about putting away. Crikey! She'll be +found murdered one of these days.... (_Suddenly reading from his +paper_) "In India a population of three and a half hundred million +is loyal to Britain; now----" + +OLIVIA: Oh, Hubert! (_Good humouredly_) I thought I'd cured you of +that. + +HUBERT: Sorry. + +OLIVIA: You've only had two weeks of her. I've had six. + +_A pause. She sighs restlessly._ + +HUBERT: Fed up? + +OLIVIA: It's such a very inadequate expression, don't you think?... +(_After a pause_) How bright the sun is to-day.... + +_She is pensive, far-away, smiling._ + +HUBERT: A penny for 'em. + +OLIVIA: I was just thinking ... I often wonder on a very fine morning +what it'll be like ... for night to come. And I never can. And yet it's +got to.... (_Looking at his perplexed face_) It is silly, isn't +it? + +_DORA comes in from the kitchen with a duster and crosses towards the +bedroom. She is a pretty, stupid, and rather sluttish country girl of +twenty, wearing a maid's uniform. She looks depressed_. + +Who are those men, Dora? + +DORA: What men, miss? + +OLIVIA: Over there, behind the clearing. + +DORA: Oh.... (_Peering past her_) Oh. 'Adn't seen them. What are +they doing poking about in that bush? + +OLIVIA (_absently_): I don't know. I saw them yesterday too, +farther down the woods. + +DORA (_lamely_): I expect they're looking for something. + +_She goes into the bedroom._ + +HUBERT: She looks a bit off-colour, doesn't she? + +OLIVIA: The atmosphere must be getting her down too. + +HUBERT: I'm wondering if I'm going to be able to stand it myself. +Coming over here every day for another week. + +OLIVIA (_smiling_): There's nothing to prevent you staying at +_home_ every day for another week ... is there? + +HUBERT (_still apparently reading his paper_): Oh, yes, there is. +What d'you think I invite myself to lunch every day for? You don't +think it's the old geyser, do you? + +OLIVIA (_smiling_): No. + +_She comes down to the table._ + +HUBERT: Don't want to sound rude, et cetera, but women don't get men +proposing to them every day, you know ... (_Turning over a page_) +Gosh, what a wizard machine-- + +OLIVIA (_sitting at the left of the table_): I can't think +_why_ you want to marry me, as a matter of fact. It isn't the same +as if I were very pretty, or something. + +HUBERT: You do say some jolly rum things, Olivia, upon my soul. + +OLIVIA: I'll tell _you_ why, then, if it makes you feel any +better. You're cautious; and you want to marry me because I'm quiet. +I'd make you a steady wife, and run a home for you. + +HUBERT: There's nothing to be ashamed of in being steady. I'm steady +myself. + +OLIVIA: I know you are. HUBERT: Then why aren't you keen? + +OLIVIA (_after a pause, tolerant but weary_): Because you're an +unmitigated bore. + +HUBERT: A bore? (_Horrified_) _Me_, a bore? Upon my word, +Olivia, I think you're a bit eccentric, I do really. Sorry to be rude, +and all that, but that's put the kybosh on it! People could call me a +thing or two, but I've never been called a bore! + +OLIVIA: Bores never are. People are too bored with them to call them +anything. + +HUBERT: I suppose you'd be more likely to say "Yes" if I were an +unmitigated bounder? + +OLIVIA (_with a laugh_): Oh, don't be silly.... + +HUBERT (_going to her_): You're a rum girl, Olivia, upon my soul +you are. P'raps that's why I think you're so jolly attractive. Like a +mouse one minute, and then this straight-from-the-shoulder business.... +What _is_ a sonnet? + +OLIVIA: It's a poem of fourteen lines. + +HUBERT: Oh, yes, Shakespeare.... Never knew you did a spot of rhyming, +Olivia! Now that's what I mean about you.... We'll have to start +calling you Elizabeth Bronte! + +_She turns away. He studies her_. + +You _are_ bored, aren't you? + +_He walks to the sun-room. She rouses herself and turns to him +impetuously_. + +OLIVIA: I'm being silly, I know--of course I _ought_ to get +married, and _of course_ this is a wonderful chance, and--HUBERT +(_moving to her_): Good egg! Then you will? OLIVIA (_stalling_): +Give me a--another week or two--will you? + +HUBERT: Oh. My holiday's up on the twenty-seventh. + +OLIVIA: I know I'm being tiresome, but-- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_in the kitchen_): The most disgraceful thing I've +ever heard-- + +HUBERT: She's coming back.... + +OLIVIA _rises and goes to the right window_. HUBERT _hurries +into the sun-room._ MRS. BRAMSON _is wheeled back from the kitchen +by_ MRS. TERENCE, _to the centre of the room. She_ (MRS. BRAMSON) +_has found the pretext for the scene she has been longing to make since +she got up this morning._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Fetch that girl here. This minute. + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, leave the child alone. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Leave her alone, the little sneak-thief? Fetch her here. + +MRS. TERENCE (_at the top of her voice_): Dora! (_Opening the +front door and calling into the trees_) Dora! + +OLIVIA: What's Dora done now? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Broken three of my Crown Derby, that's all. Thought if +she planted them in the rose-bed I wouldn't be well enough ever to see +them, I suppose. Well, I _have_ seen. + +MRS. TERENCE (_crossing and calling to the bedroom_): You're +wanted. + +DORA'S VOICE: What for? + +MRS. TERENCE: She wants to kiss you good morning, what d'you think.... + +_She collects the table-cloth, fetches a vase from the mantelpiece, +and goes into the kitchen._ DORA _enters gingerly from the +bedroom, carrying a cup and saucer on a tray._ + +DORA: Did you want me, mum? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Crown Derby to you, my girl. + +DORA (_uncertain_): Beg pardon, mum? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I suppose you think that china came from Marks and +Spencer? + +DORA: Oh.... (_Snivelling_) Oh ... oh ... + +OLIVIA (_coming between_ DORA _and_ MRS. BRAMSON): Come +along, Dora, it's not as bad as all that. + +DORA: Oh, yes, it is.... Oh.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: You can leave, that's all. You can leave. + +_Appalled,_ DORA _drops the tray and breaks the saucer._ + +That settles it. Now you'll _have_ to leave. + +DORA (_with a cry_): Oh, please I ... (_Kneeling, and collecting +broken china_) Oh, ma'am--I'm not meself, you see.... (_Snivelling_) +I'm in a terrible trouble.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Have you been stealing? + +DORA (_shocked_): Oh, no! + +OLIVIA (_after a pause_): Are you going to have a baby? + +_After a pause, DORA nods._ + +DORA (_putting the china in her apron_): The idea of me +stealing.... I do go to Sunday school, anyways.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: So that's the game. Wouldn't think butter would melt in +her mouth.... You'll have to go, of course; I can't have that sort of +thing in this house--and stop squeaking! You'll bring my heart on +again. It's all this modern life. I've always said so. All these films +and rubbish. + +OLIVIA: My dear auntie, you can't have a baby by just sitting in the +pictures. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Go away, and don't interfere. + +OLIVIA _goes to the left window_. DORA _rises. + +(Triumphantly_) So you're going to have a child. When? + +DORA (_sniffling_): Last August Bank Holiday.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: What?... Oh! + +DORA: I 'aven't got a penny only what I earn--and if I lose my job +'ere-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: He'll have to marry you. + +DORA: Oh, I don't think he's keen.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'll _make_ him keen. Who is the gentleman? + +DORA: A boy I know; Dan his name is--'leas' 'e's not a gentleman. He's +a page-boy at the Tallboys. + +MRS. BRAMSON: The Tallboys? D'you mean that new-fangled place all +awnings and loud speakers and things? + +DORA: That's right. On the by-pass. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Just the nice ripe sort of place for mischief, it always +looked to me. All those lanterns.... What's his character, the +good-for-nothing scoundrel? + +DORA: Oh, he's nice, really. He done the wrong thing by me, but he's +all right, if you know what I mean.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, I don't. Where does he come from? + +DORA: He's sort of Welsh, I think. 'E's been to sea, too. He's funny, +of course. Ever so open. Baby-face they call him. Though I never seem +to get 'old of what 'e's thinking, somehow-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'll get hold of what he's thinking, all right. I've had +my knife into that sort ever since I was a girl. + +DORA: Oh, mum, if I got him to let you speak to him--d'you think I +could stay on? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_after a pause): If_ he marries you at once. + +DORA: Shall I--(_Eagerly_) As a matter of fact, ma'am, he's gone +on a message on his bicycle to Payley Hill this morning, and he said he +might pop in to see me on the way back-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: That's right; nothing like visitors to brighten your +mornings, eh? I'll deal with him. + +DORA: Yes.... (_Going, and turning at the kitchen door--in impulsive +relief_) Oh, ma'am-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: And I'll stop the Crown Derby out of your wages. + +DORA (_crestfallen_): Oh! + +MRS. BRAMSON: What were you going to say? + +DORA: Well, ma'am, I _was_ going to say I don't know how to thank +you for your generosity.... + +_She goes into the kitchen. The clock chimes_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Olivia! + +OLIVIA: Yes, auntie? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You've forgotten again. Medicine's overdue. Most +important. + +OLIVIA _crosses to the medicine cupboard and fetches the +medicine._ MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen with a vase of +flowers and barges between the sofa and the wheelchair_. + +MRS. TERENCE (_muttering_): All this furniture ... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to her_): Did _you_ know she's having a baby? + +MRS. TERENCE (_coldly_): She did mention it in conversation. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Playing with fire, that's the game nowadays. + +MRS. TERENCE (_arranging flowers as_ OLIVIA _gives_ MRS. +BRAMSON _her medicine_): Playing with fiddlesticks. We're only +young once; that 'ot summer too. She's been a fool, but she's no +criminal. And, talking of criminals, there's a p'liceman at the kitchen +door. + +MRS. BRAMSON: A what? + +MRS. TERENCE: A p'liceman. A bobby. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What does he want? + +MRS. TERENCE: Better ask 'im. I know _my_ conscience is clear; I +don't know about other people's. + +MRS. BRAMSON: But I've never had a policeman coming to see me before! + +DORA _runs in from the kitchen_. + +DORA (_terrified_): There's a man there! From the p'lice! 'E said +something about the Tallboys! 'E--'e 'asn't come about me, 'as 'e? + +MRS. TERENCE: Of course he 'asn't-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: He may have. + +MRS. TERENCE: Don't frighten the girl; she's simple enough now. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_); It's against the law, what she's done, +isn't it? (_To_ DORA) Go back in there till he sends for you. + +DORA _creeps back into the kitchen_. + +OLIVIA (_at the left window_): He isn't a policeman, as a matter +of fact. He must be a plain-clothes man. + +MRS. TERENCE (_sardonically_): Scotland Yard, I should think. + +_BELSIZE is seen outside, crossing the left window to the front +door._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: That place in those detective books? Don't be so silly. + +MRS. TERENCE: He says he wants to see you very particular-- + +_A sharp rat-tat at the front door. + +(Going to the hall_) On a very particular matter.... (_Turning +on_ MRS. BRAMSON) And don't you start callin' _me_ silly! + +_Going to the front door, and opening it._ + +This way, sir.... + +BELSIZE _enters, followed by_ MRS. TERENCE. _He is an entirely +inconspicuous man of fifty, dressed in tweeds: his suavity hides any +amount of strength._ + +BELSIZE: Mrs. Bramson? I'm sorry to break in on you like this. My card .... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_taking it, sarcastically_): I suppose you're going +to tell me you're from Scotland Ya--(_She sees the name on the +card._) + +BELSIZE: I see you've all your wits about you! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh. (_Reading incredulously_) Criminal Investigation +Department! + +BELSIZE (_smiling_): A purely informal visit, I assure you. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I don't like having people in my house that I don't know. + +BELSIZE (_the velvet glove_): I'm afraid the law sometimes makes +it necessary. + +MRS. TERENCE _gives him a chair next the table. He sits_. MRS. +TERENCE _stands behind the table._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to her_): You can go. + +MRS. TERENCE: I don't want to go. I might 'ave to be arrested for +stealing sugar. + +BELSIZE: Sugar?... As a matter of fact, you might be useful. Any of you +may be useful. Mind my pipe? + +_MRS. BRAMSON blows in disgust and waves her hand before her +face._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Is it about my maid having an illegitimate child? + +BELSIZE: I beg your pardon?... Oh no! That sort of thing's hardly in my +line, thank God ... Lonely spot ... (_To MRS. TERENCE_) Long way +for you to walk every day, isn't it? + +MRS. TERENCE: I don't walk. I cycle. + +BELSIZE: Oh. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter? + +BELSIZE: I just thought if she walked she might use some of the paths, +and have seen--something. + +(Note: The following pair of lines are spoken simultaneously.) + +MRS. BRAMSON: Something of what? + +MRS. TERENCE: Something? + +BELSIZE: I'll tell you. I-- + +_A piano is heard in the sun-room, playing the "Merry Widow" waltz. + +(Casually_) Other people in the house? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_calling shrilly_): Mr. Laurie! + +_The piano stops._ + +HUBERT'S VOICE (_as the piano stops, in the sun-room_): Yes? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to OLIVIA, sourly_): Did you ask him to play the +piano? + +_HUBERT comes back from the sun-room._ + +HUBERT (_breezily_): Hello, house on fire or something? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Very nearly. This is Mr.--er--Bel-- + +BELSIZE: Belsize. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_drily_): Of Scotland Yard. + +HUBERT: Oh.... (_Apprehensive_) It isn't about my car, is it? + +BELSIZE: No. + +HUBERT: Oh. (_Shaking hands affably_) How do you do? + +BELSIZE: How do you do, sir.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: He's a friend of Miss Grayne's here. Keeps calling. + +BELSIZE: Been calling long? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Every day for two weeks. Just before lunch. + +HUBERT: Well-- + +OLIVIA (_sitting on the sofa_): Perhaps I'd better introduce +myself. I'm Olivia Grayne, Mrs. Bramson's niece. I work for her. + +BELSIZE: Oh, I see. Thanks. Well now ... + +HUBERT (_sitting at the table, effusively_): I know a chap on the +Stock Exchange who was taken last year and shown over the Black Museum +at Scotland Yard. + +BELSIZE (_politely_): Really-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: And what d'you expect the policeman to do about it? + +HUBERT: Well, it was very interesting, he said. Bit ghoulish, of +course-- + +BELSIZE: I expect so.... (_Getting down to business_) Now I wonder +if any of you've seen anything in the least out of the ordinary round +here lately? Anybody called--anybody strange wandering about in the +woods--overheard anything? + +_They look at one another._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: The only visitor's been the doctor--and the district +nurse. + +MRS. TERENCE: Been ever so gay. + +HUBERT: As a matter of fact, funny thing did happen to me. Tuesday +afternoon it was, I remember now. + +BELSIZE: Oh? + +HUBERT (_graphically_): I was walking back to my cottage from +golf, and I heard something moving stealthily behind a tree, or a bush, +or something. + +BELSIZE (_interested_): Oh, yes? + +HUBERT: Turned out to be a squirrel. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_in disgust_): Oh!... + +HUBERT: No bigger than my hand! Funny thing to happen, I thought. + +BELSIZE: Very funny. Anything else? + +HUBERT: Not a thing. By Jove, fancy walking in the woods and stumbling +over a dead body! Most embarrassing! + +MRS. TERENCE: I've stumbled over bodies in them woods afore now. But +they wasn't dead. Oh, no. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Say what you know, and don't talk so much. + +MRS. TERENCE: Well, I've told 'im all I've seen. A bit o' love now and +again. Though 'ow they make do with all them pine-needles beats me. + +BELSIZE: Anything else? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Miss Grayne's always moping round the woods. Perhaps +_she_ can tell you something. + +OLIVIA: I haven't seen anything, I'm afraid.... Oh--I saw some men +beating the undergrowth-- + +BELSIZE: Yes, I'm coming to that. But no tramps, for instance? + +OLIVIA: N-no, I don't think so. + +HUBERT: "Always carry a stick's" my motto. I'd like to see a tramp try +anything on with me. Ah-ha! Swish! + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's all the fuss about? Has there been a robbery or +something? + +BELSIZE: There's a lady missing. + +MRS. TERENCE: Where from? + +BELSIZE: The Tallboys. + +MRS. BRAMSON: That Tallboys again-- + +BELSIZE: A Mrs. Chalfont. + +MRS. TERENCE: Chalfont? Oh, yes! Dyed platinum blonde--widow of a +colonel, so she says, livin' alone, so she says, always wearin' them +faldalaldy openwork stockings. Fond of a drop too. That's 'er. + +HUBERT: Why, d'you know her? + +MRS. TERENCE: Never set eyes on 'er. But you know how people talk. +Partial to that there, too, I'm told. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's that there? + +MRS. TERENCE: Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies. + +BELSIZE (_quickly_): Well, anyway ... Mrs. Chalfont left the +Tallboys last Friday afternoon, without a hat, went for a walk through +the woods in this direction, and has never been seen since. + +_He makes his effect_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I expect she was so drunk she fell flat and never came +to. + +BELSIZE: We've had the woods pretty well thrashed. (_To OLIVIA_) +Those would be the men you saw. Now she was ... HUBERT (_taking the +floor_): She may have had a brain-storm, you know, and taken a train +somewhere. That's not uncommon, you know, among people of her sort. +(_Airing knowledge_) And if what we gather from our friend here's +true--and she's both a dipsomaniac _and_ a nymphomaniac-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Hark at the walking dictionary! + +BELSIZE: We found her bag in her room; and maniacs can't get far +without cash ... however dipso or nympho they may be.... + +HUBERT: Oh. + +BELSIZE: She was a very flashy type of wo--she _is_ a flashy type, +I should say. At least I hope I should say ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: What d'you mean? Why d'you hope? + +BELSIZE: Well ... + +OLIVIA: You don't mean she may be ... she mayn't be alive? + +BELSIZE: It's possible. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You'll be saying she's been murdered next! + +BELSIZE: That's been known. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Lot of stuff and nonsense. From a policeman too. +Anybody'd think you'd been brought up on penny dreadfuls. + +OLIVIA _turns and goes to the window._ + +BELSIZE (_to_ MRS. BRAMSON): Did you see about the fellow being +hanged for the Ipswich murder? In last night's papers? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I've lived long enough not to believe the papers. + +BELSIZE: They occasionally print facts. And murder's occasionally a +fact. + +HUBERT: Everybody likes a good murder, as the saying goes! Remember +those trials in the _Evening Standard_ last year? Jolly interesting. +I followed-- + +BELSIZE (_rising_): I'd be very grateful if you'd all keep your +eyes and ears open, just in case ... (_Shaking hands_) Good +morning ... good morning ... good morning, Mrs. Bramson. I must +apologise again for intruding-- + +_He turns to_ OLIVIA, _who is still looking out of the +window._ + +Good morning, Miss ... er ... + +_A pause._ + +OLIVIA (_starting_): I'm so sorry. + +BELSIZE: Had you remembered something? OLIVIA: Oh, no.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: What were you thinking, then? + +OLIVIA: Only how ... strange it is. + +BELSIZE: What? + +OLIVIA: Well, here we all are, perfectly ordinary English people. We +woke up ... no, it's silly. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Of course it's silly. + +BELSIZE (_giving_ MRS. BRAMSON _an impatient look_): No, go +on. OLIVIA: Well, we woke up this morning, thinking, "Here's another +day." We got up, looked at the weather, and talked; and here we all +are, still talking.... And all that time---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: My dear girl, who are you to expect a policeman---- + +BELSIZE (_quelling her sternly_): If you please! I want to hear +what she's got to say. (_To_ OLIVIA) Well? + +OLIVIA: All that time ... there may be something ... lying in the +woods. Hidden under a bush, with two feet just showing. Perhaps one +high heel catching the sunlight, with a bird perched on the end of it; +and the other--a stockinged foot, with blood ... that's dried into the +openwork stocking. And there's a man walking about somewhere, and +talking, like us; and he woke up this morning, and looked at the +weather. ... And he killed her.... (_Smiling, looking out of the +window_) The cat doesn't believe a word of it, anyhow. It's just +walking away. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well! + +MRS. TERENCE: Ooh, Miss Grayne, you give me the creeps! I'm glad it is +morning, that's all I can say.... + +BELSIZE: I don't think the lady can quite describe _herself_ as +ordinary, after that little flight of fancy! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, that's nothing; she writes poetry. Jingle jingle-- + +BELSIZE: I can only hope she's wrong, or it'll mean a nice job of work +for us! ... Well, if anything funny happens, nip along to Shepperley +police station. Pity you're not on the 'phone. Good morning.... Good +morning.... + +MRS. TERENCE: This way.... + +_She follows_ BELSIZE _into the hall_. + +BELSIZE: No, don't bother.... Good morning. + +_He goes out._ MRS. TERENCE _shuts the door after him_. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ HUBERT): What are _you_ staring at? + +HUBERT (_crossing to the fireplace_): Funny, I can't get out of my +mind what Olivia said about the man being somewhere who's done it. + +MRS. TERENCE (_coming into the room_): Why, Mr. Laurie, it might +be you! After all, there's nothing in your face that _proves_ it +isn't! + +HUBERT: Oh, come, come! You're being a bit hard on the old countenance, +aren't you? + +MRS. TERENCE: Well, 'e's not going to walk about with bloodshot eyes +and a snarl all over his face, is he? + +_She goes into the kitchen._ + +HUBERT: That's true enough. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Missing woman indeed! She's more likely than not at this +very moment sitting in some saloon bar. Or the films, I shouldn't +wonder. (_To_ OLIVIA) pass me my wool, will you.... + +OLIVIA _crosses to the desk. A knock at the kitchen door_: DORA +_appears, cautiously._ + +DORA: _Was_ it about me? + +OLIVIA: Of course it wasn't. + +DORA (_relieved_): Oh.... Please, mum, 'e's 'ere. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Who? + +DORA: My boy fr--my gentleman friend, ma'am, from the Tallboys. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'm ready for him. (_Waving aside the wool which_ +OLIVIA _brings to her_) The sooner he's made to realise what his +duty _is_, the better. _I_'ll give him baby-face! + +DORA: Thank you, ma'am. + +_She goes out through the front door._ + +HUBERT: What gentleman? What duty? + +OLIVIA: The maid's going to have a baby. (_She crosses and puts the +wool in the cupboard of the desk._) + +HUBERT: Is she, by Jove!... Don't look at me like that, Mrs. Bramson! +I've only been in the county two weeks.... But is _he_ from the +Tallboys? + +MRS. BRAMSON: A page-boy or something of the sort. + +DORA _comes back to the front door, looks back, and beckons. She is +followed by_ DAN, _who saunters past her into the room. He is a +young fellow wearing a blue pill-box hat, uniform trousers, a jacket +too small for him, and bicycle-clips: the stub of a cigarette dangles +between his lips. He speaks with a rough accent, indeterminate, but +more Welsh than anything else. + +His personality varies very considerably as the play proceeds: the +impression he gives at the moment is one of totally disarming good +humour and childlike unself-consciousness. It would need a very close +observer to suspect that there is something wrong somewhere--that this +personality is completely assumed._ DORA _shuts the front door and +comes to the back of the sofa._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sternly_): Well? + +DAN (_saluting_): Mornin', all! + +MRS. BRAMSON: So you're Baby-face? + +DAN: That's me. (_Grinning._) Silly name, isn't it? (_After a +pause._) I must apologise to all and sundry for this fancy dress, +but it's my working togs. I been on duty this mornin', and my hands +isn't very clean. You see, I didn't know as it was going to be a party. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Party? + +DAN (_looking at_ OLIVIA): Well, it's ladies, isn't it? + +HUBERT: Are you shy with ladies? + +DAN (_smiling at_ OLIVIA): Oh, yes. + +OLIVIA _moves away coldly._ DAN _turns to_ MRS. BRAMSON. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_cutting_): You smoke, I see. + +DAN: Yes. (_Taking the stub out of his mouth with alacrity and taking +off his hat_) Oh, I'm sorry. I always forget my manners with a +cigarette when I'm in company.... (_Pushing the stub behind his ear, +as_ OLIVIA _crosses to the armchair_) I always been clumsy in +people's houses. I am sorry. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You know my maid, Dora Parkoe, I believe? + +DAN: Well, we have met, yes ... (_with a grin at_ DORA). + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ DORA): Go away! + +DORA _creeps back into the kitchen_. + +You walked out with her last August Bank Holiday? + +DAN: Yes.... Excuse me smiling, but it sounds funny when you put it +like that, doesn't it? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You ought to be ashamed of yourself. + +DAN (_soberly_): Oh, I am. + +MRS. BRAMSON: How did it happen? + +DAN (_embarrassed_): Well ... we went ... did _you_ have a +nice bank holiday? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Answer my question! + +HUBERT: Were you in love with the wench? + +DAN: Oh, yes! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_triumphantly_): When did you first meet her? + +DAN: Er--bank holiday morning. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Picked her up, I suppose? + +DAN: Oh, no, I didn't pick her up! I asked her for a match, and then I +took her for a bit of a walk, to take her mind off her work-- + +HUBERT: You seem to have succeeded. + +DAN (_smiling at him, then catching_ MRS. BRAMSON's _eye_): +I've thought about it a good bit since, I can tell you. Though it's a +bit awkward talking about it in front of strangers; though you all look +very nice people; but it is a _bit_ awkward-- + +HUBERT: I should jolly well think it is awkward for a chap! Though of +course, never having been in the same jam myself-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: I haven't finished with him yet. + +HUBERT: In that case I'm going for my stroll ... + +_He makes for the door to the hall._ + +OLIVIA: You work at the Tallboys, don't you? + +DAN: Yes, miss. (_Grinning_) Twenty-four hours a day, miss. + +HUBERT (_coming to_ DAN'S _left_): Then perhaps you can tell +us something about the female who's been murdered?-- + +_An unaccountable pause_. DAN _looks slowly from_ OLIVIA +_to_ HUBERT, _and back again_. + +Well, can you tell us? You know there was a Mrs. Chalfont staying at +the Tallboys who went off one day? + +DAN: Yes. + +HUBERT: And nobody's seen her since? + +DAN: I know. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's she like? + +DAN (_to_ MRS. BRAMSON): But I thought you said--or somebody +said--something about--a murder? + +HUBERT: Oh, we don't_know_, of course, but there _might_ have +been, mightn't there? + +DAN (_suddenly effusive_): Yes, there might have been, yes! + +HUBERT: Ever seen her? + +DAN: Oh, yes. I used to take cigarettes an' drinks for her. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_impatiently_): What's she _like_? + +DAN: What's she like?... (_To_ MRS. BRAMSON)--She's ... on the +tall side. Thin ankles, with one o' them bracelets on one of 'em. +(_Looking at_ OLIVIA) Fair hair-- + +_A sudden thought seems to arrest him. He goes on looking at_ +OLIVIA. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well? Go on! + +DAN (_after a pause, in a level voice_): Thin eyebrows, with white +marks, where they was pulled out ... to be in the fashion, you know.... +Her mouth ... a bit thin as well, with red stuff painted round it, to +make it look more; you can rub it off ... I suppose. Her neck ... +rather thick. Laughs a bit loud; and then it stops. (_After a +pause_) She's ... very lively. (_With a quick smile that dispels +the atmosphere he has unaccountably created_) You can't say I don't +keep my eyes skinned, can you? + +HUBERT: I should say you do! A living portrait, if ever there was one, +what? Now-- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_pointedly_): Weren't you going for a walk? + +HUBERT: So I was, by Jove! Well, I'll charge off. Bye-bye. + +_He goes out of the front door_. + +OLIVIA (_her manner faintly hostile_): You're very observant. + +DAN: Well, the ladies, you know ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: If he weren't so observant, that Dora mightn't be in the +flummox she is now. + +DAN (_cheerfully_): That's true, ma'am. + +OLIVIA (_rising_): You don't sound very repentant. + +DAN (_as she crosses, stiffly_): Well, what's done's done's my +motto, isn't it? + +_She goes into the sun-room. He makes a grimace after her and holds +his left hand out, the thumb pointing downwards_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And what does that mean? + +DAN: She's a nice bit of ice for next summer, isn't she? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You're a proper one to talk about next summer, when Dora +there'll be up hill and down dale with a perambulator. Now look here, +young man, immorality-- + +MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen_. + +MRS. TERENCE: The butcher wants paying. And 'e says there's men +ferreting at the bottom of the garden looking for that Mrs. Chalfont +and do you know about it. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_furious_): Well, they won't ferret long, not among +my pampas grass!... (_Calling_) Olivia!... Oh, that girl's never +there. (_Wheeling herself furiously towards the kitchen as_ MRS. +TERENCE _makes a move to help her_) Leave me alone. I don't want +to be pushed into the nettles to-day, thank you ... (_Shouting loudly +as she disappears into the kitchen_) Come out of my garden, you! +Come out! + +MRS. TERENCE (_looking towards the kitchen as_ DAN _takes the +stub from behind his ear and lights it_): Won't let me pay the +butcher, so I won't know where she keeps 'er purse; but I do know, so +put that in your pipe and smoke it! + +DAN (_going to her and jabbing her playfully in the arm_): They +say down at the Tallboys she's got enough inside of 'er purse, too. +MRS. TERENCE: Well, nobody's seen it open. If you 'ave a peep inside, +young fellow, you'll go down in 'istory, that's what you'll do ... +(_Dan salutes her. She sniffs_) Something's boiling over. + +_She rushes back into the kitchen as_ OLIVIA _comes back from +the sun-room_. + +OLIVIA: Did Mrs. Bramson call me, do you know? + +_A pause. He surveys her from under drooping lids, rolling his +cigarette on his lower lip_. + +DAN: I'm sorry, I don't know your name. + +OLIVIA: Oh.... + +_She senses his insolence, goes self-consciously to the desk and +takes out the wool_. + +DAN: Not much doin' round here for a girl, is there? + +_No answer_. + +It is not a very entertaining quarter of the world for a young lady, is +it? + +_He gives it up as a bad job_. DORA _comes in from the +kitchen_. + +DORA (_eagerly_): What did she ... (_confused, seeing_ +OLIVIA) Oh, beg pardon, miss.... + +_She hurries back into the kitchen_. DAN _jerks head after her +with a laugh and looks at_ OLIVIA. + +OLIVIA (_arranging wool at the table_): I'm not a snob, but, in +case you ever call here again, I'd like to point out that though I'm +employed by my aunt, I'm not quite in Dora's position. + +DAN: Oh, I hope not ... (_She turns away, confused. He moves to +her._) Though I'll be putting it all right for Dora. I'm going to +marry her. And-- + +OLIVIA (_coldly_): I don't believe you. + +DAN (_after a pause_): You don't like me, do you? + +OLIVIA: No. + +DAN (_with a smile_): Well, everybody else does! + +OLIVIA (_absorbed in her wool-sorting_): Your eyes are set quite +wide apart, your hands are quite good ... I don't really know what's +wrong with you. + +DAN _looks at his outspread hands. A pause. He breaks it, and goes +nearer to her_. + +DAN (_persuasively_): You know, I've been looking at you too. +You're lonely, aren't you? I could see-- + +OLIVIA: I'm sorry, it's a waste of time doing your stuff with me. I'm +not the type. (_Crossing to the desk and turning suddenly to him_) +Are you playing up to Mrs. Bramson? + +DAN: Playin' up? + +OLIVIA: It crossed my mind for a minute. You stand a pretty poor chance +there, you know. + +DAN (_after a pause, smiling_): What d'you bet me? + +OLIVIA _turns from him, annoyed, and puts the wool away_. + +MRS. BRAMSON _careers in from the kitchen in her chair_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: They say they've got permits to look for that silly +woman--who are _they_, I'd like to know? If there's anything I +hate, it's these men who think they've got authority. + +OLIVIA: I don't think they're quite as bad as men who think they've got +charm. + +_She goes back into the sun-room_. DAN _whistles_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What did she mean by that? + +DAN: Well, it's no good her thinkin' _she's_ got any, is it? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sternly_). Now, young man, what about Dora? I-- + +DAN: Wait a minute ... (_Putting his hat on the table and going to +her_) Are you sure you're comfortable like that? Don't you think, +Mrs. Bramson, you ought to be facin' ... a wee bit more this side, +towards the sun more, eh? (_He moves her chair round till she is in +the centre of the room, facing the sun-room_) You're looking pale, +you know. (_As she stares at him, putting the stub in an ashtray on +the table_) I am sorry. Excuse rudeness ... Another thing, Mrs. +Bramson--you don't mind me sayin' it, do you?--but you ought to have a +rug, you know. This October weather's very treacherous. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_blinking_): Pale? Did you say pale? + +DAN: Washed out. (_His wiles fully turned on, but not overdone in the +slightest_) The minute I saw you just now, I said to myself, now +there's a lady that's got a lot to contend with. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh ... Well, I have. Nobody knows it better than me. + +DAN: No, I'm sure ... Oh, it must be terrible to watch everybody else +striding up and down enjoying everything, and to see everybody tasting +the fruit-- + +_As she looks at him, appreciation of what he is saying grows visibly +in her face_. + +I'm sorry ... (_Diffidently_) I didn't ha' ought to say that. + +MRS. BRAMSON: But it's true! As true as you are my witness, and nobody +else--(_Pulling herself together_) Now look here, about that girl-- + +DAN: Excuse me a minute.... (_Examining her throat, like a +doctor_) Would you mind sayin' something? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_taken aback_): What d'you want me to say? + +DAN: Yes ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes. What? + +DAN: There's a funny twitching in your neck when you talk--very slight, +of course--nerves, I expect--But I hope your doctor knows all about it +... D'you mind if I ask what your ailments are? + +MRS. BRAMSON: ... Hadn't you better sit down? + +DAN (_sitting_): Thank you. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, I have the most terrible palpitations. I-- + +DAN: Palpitations! (_Whistling_.) But the way you get about! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh? + +DAN: It's a pretty bad thing to have, you know. D'you know that nine +women out of ten in your position'd be just sittin' down givin' way? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Would they? + +DAN: Yes, they would! I do know, as a matter of fact. I've known +people with palpitations. Somebody very close to me ... (_After a +pause, soberly_) They're dead now ... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_startled_): Oh! + +DAN: My mother, as a matter of fact ... + +_With finely controlled emotion, practically indistinguishable from +the real thing_. + +I can just remember her. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh? + +DAN: She died when I was six. I know that, because my dad died two +years before that. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_vaguely_): Oh. + +DAN (_studying her_): As a matter o' fact-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes? + +DAN: Oh, no, it's a daft thing-- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_the old tart note creeping back_): Come along now! +Out with it! + +DAN: It's only fancy, I suppose ... but ... you remind me a bit of her. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Of your mother? (_As he nods simply, her sentimentality +stirring_) Oh ... + +DAN: Have you got a son? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_self-pityingly_): I haven't anybody at all. + +DAN: Oh ... But I don't like to talk too much about my mother. +(_Putting a finger unobtrusively to his eye_) Makes me feel ... +sort of sad ... (_With a sudden thought_) She had the same eyes +very wide apart as you, and--and the same very good hands. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_looking interestedly at her fingers_): Oh?... And +the same palpitations? + +DAN: And the same palpitations. You don't mind me talking about your +health, do you? + +MRS. BRAMSON: No. + +DAN: Well, d'you know, you ought to get used to letting _other_ +people do things for you. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_a great truth dawning on her_): Yes! + +DAN: You ought to be very careful. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes! (_After a pause, eyeing him as he smiles at +her_) You're a funny boy to be a page-boy. + +DAN (_shyly_): D'you think so? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, now I come to talk to you, you seem so much better +class--I mean, you know so much of the world-- + +DAN: I've knocked about a good bit, you know. Never had any advantages, +but I always tried to do the right thing. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_patronisingly_): I think you deserve better-- +(_sharply again_) Talking of the right thing, what about Dora? + +DAN (_disarming_): Oh, I know I'm to blame; I'm not much of a +chap, but I'd put things straight like a shot if I had any money ... +But, you see, I work at the Tallboys, get thirty bob a week, with +tips--but listen to me botherin' you with my worries and rubbish the +state you're in ... well! + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, I can stand it. + +OLIVIA _comes back from the sun-room_. + +(_Pursing her lips, reflectively_) I've taken a liking to you. + +DAN: Well ... (_looking round at OLIVIA_) That's very kind of +you, Mrs. Bramson ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: It's the way you talked about your mother. That's what +it was. + +DAN: Was it? + +OLIVIA (_at the left window_): Shall I pack these books? + +DAN (_going to her with alacrity, taking the parcel from her_): +I'll post them for you. + +OLIVIA: Oh ... + +DAN: I'm passing Shepperley post office on the bike before post time +to-morrow morning. With pleasure! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Have you got to go back? + +DAN: Now? Well, no, not really ... I've finished on duty now I done +that errand, and this is my half day. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_imperiously_): Stay to lunch. + +DAN (_apparently taken aback, after a look at_ OLIVIA): Well--I +don't like to impose myself-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: In the kitchen, of course. + +DAN: Oh, I know-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: There's plenty of food! Stay to lunch! + +DAN: Well--I don't know ... all right, so long as you let me help a bit +this morning ... Don't you want some string for this? Where's it kep'? + +MRS. BRAMSON: That woman knows. In the kitchen somewhere. + +DAN: Through here? + +_He tosses the books on the sofa and hurries into the kitchen_. +MRS. BRAMSON _holds out her hands and studies them with a new +interest_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: That boy's got understanding. + +OLIVIA: Enough to marry Dora? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You ought to learn to be a little less bitter, my dear. +Never hook a man if you don't. With him and that Dora, I'm not so sure +it wasn't six of one and half a dozen of the other. I know human +nature, and, mark my word, that boy's going to do big things. + +_A scurry in the garden_. MRS. TERENCE _rushes in from the front +door, madly excited_. + +MRS. TERENCE: The paper-boy's at the back gate, and says there's a +placard in Shepperley, and it's got "News of the World--Shepperley +Mystery" on it! + +MRS. BRAMSON: What! + +OLIVIA: They've got it in the papers! + +MRS. TERENCE: They've got it in the papers! D'ye want any? (_Beside +herself_.) + +MRS. BRAMSON: Catch him quick! + +MRS. TERENCE: First time I ever 'eard of Shepperley being in print +before--hi! + +_She races out of the front door_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Running around the house shouting like a lunatic! +Sensation mad! Silly woman! + +DORA _runs in from kitchen_. + +DORA: They've got it in the papers! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Go away! + +MRS. TERENCE (_off_): I've bought three! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_shouting_): Be QUIET! + +MRS. TERENCE _runs back with three Sunday newspapers and gives one +to_ OLIVIA _and one to_ MRS. BRAMSON. + +OLIVIA (_sitting left of the table_): I expect it is a bit of an +event. + +MRS. TERENCE (_leaning over the table, searching in her paper_): +'E says they're sellin' like ninepins-- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_turning pages over, impatiently_): Where is it?... + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, I expect it's nothing after all.... + +OLIVIA: Here it is.... (_Reading_) "Disappeared mysteriously ... +woods round the village being searched" ... then her description ... +tall ... blonde.... + +MRS. TERENCE: Blonde? I should think she is ... I can't find it! + +OLIVIA: Here's something ... "A keeper in the Shepperley woods was +closely questioned late last night, but he had heard nothing, beyond a +woman's voice in the woods on the afternoon in question, and a man's +voice, probably with her, singing 'Mighty Lak a Rose.' Enquiries are +being pursued...." + +MRS. BRAMSON: "Mighty Lak a Rose." What rubbish!... + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh yes.... It's the 'eadline in this one. (_Humming the +tune absently as she reads_) "Don't know what to call you, but +you're mighty lak a rose." ... Those men have done rummaging in the +garden, anyway. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I must go this minute and have a look at my pampas grass. +And if they've damaged it I'll bring an action. + +MRS. TERENCE: Fancy Shepperley bein' in print. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Wheel me out, and don't talk so much. + +MRS. TERENCE (_manoeuvring her through the front door_): I could +talk me 'ead off and not talk as much as some people I could mention. + +OLIVIA _is alone. A pause. She spreads her paper on the table and +finds_ DAN'S _hat under it. She picks it up and looks at it_; +DAN _comes in from the kitchen with a ball of tangled string, a +cigarette between his lips. He is about to take the books into the +kitchen, when he sees her. He crosses to her_. + +DAN: Excuse me ... (_Taking the hat from her, cheerfully_) I think +I'll hang it in the hall, same as if I was a visitor ... + +_He does so, then takes up the book, sits on the sofa, and begins to +unravel the string. A pause_. + +You don't mind me stayin' and havin' a bit o' lunch ... in the kitchen, +do you? + +OLIVIA: It's not for me to say. As I told you before, I'm really a +servant here. + +DAN (_after a pause_): You're not a very ordinary servant, +though, are you? + +OLIVIA (_turning over a page_): N-no ... + +DAN: Neither am I. + +_He unpicks a knot, and begins to hum absentmindedly. The humming +gradually resolves itself into faint singing._ + +(_Singing_) "I'm a pretty little feller ... everybody knows ..." + +OLIVIA _looks up; a thought crosses her mind. She turns her head and +looks at him. + +The Curtain begins to fall slowly. + +(Singing, as he intently unravels the string_) + +"Don't know what to call me--but I'm mighty lak a rose...." + +THE CURTAIN IS DOWN + + + +ACT II + +SCENE I + +_An afternoon twelve days later. The weather is a little duller._ + +MRS. BRAMSON _is sitting on the right of the table in her invalid +chair, puzzling out a game of patience. She has smartened up her +appearance in the interval and is wearing purple, and earrings._ +OLIVIA _is sitting opposite her, smoking a cigarette, a pencil and +pad on the table in front of her; she is pondering and writing. A +portable gramophone on a small table next the desk is playing the +H.M.V. dance record of "Dames." + +A pause_. MRS. BRAMSON _coughs. She coughs again, and looks at_ +OLIVIA, _waving her hand before her, clearing away billows of +imaginary smoke_. + +OLIVIA: I'm sorry. Is my cigarette worrying you? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_temper_): Not at all. I like it! + +OLIVIA _stubs out her cigarette with a resigned look and goes on +making notes_. DAN _enters from the kitchen, keeping time to the +music, carrying a bunch of roses, wearing overalls over flannel +trousers and a brown golf jacket, and smoking. He goes to the fireplace +and clumps the roses into a vase on the mantelpiece, humming the tune. +He crosses to the gramophone, still in rhythm,_ MRS. BRAMSON +_keeping time skittishly with her hands. He turns off the gramophone +and looks over_ OLIVIA'S _shoulder at what she is writing._ + +DAN (_singing_): "Their home addresses ... and their caresses ... +linger in my memory of ... those beautiful dames" ... (_His hand to +his forehead_) That's me! + +OLIVIA _looks at him coldly and continues her notes._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: It won't come out.... + +DAN _shrugs his shoulders, stands behind_ MRS. BRAMSON'S _chair, +and studies her play._ OLIVIA _follows his example from her +side._ + +OLIVIA (_pointing to two cards_): Look. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_infuriated_): I saw that! Leave me alone, and +don't interfere. + +_A pause._ DAN _makes a quick movement and puts one card on +another. + +(Pleased and interested, quite unconscious to the difference in her +attitude_) Oh, yes, dear, of course.... + +OLIVIA (_as_ MRS. BRAMSON _makes a move_): No, that's a +spade. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): No such thing; it's a club. It's got a +wiggle on it. + +DAN: They both got wiggles on 'em. (_Pointing to another card_) +This is a club. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh yes, dear, so it is! OLIVIA (_writing_): The +ironmonger says there _were_ two extra gallons of paraffin not +paid for. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And they _won't_ be paid for either--not if I have +to go to law about it. + +_A pause. She coughs absently_. + +DAN: I'm sorry. Is my cigarette worrying you? + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, no, dear. + +_This has its effect on_ OLIVIA. DAN _sits on the left of the +table, where "East Lynne" is open on the table_. + +I'm sick of patience. + +DAN (_reading laboriously_): "You old-fashioned child--" + +MRS. BRAMSON: What? + +DAN: _East Lynne_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh.... + +DAN (_reading_): "'You old-fashioned child!' retorted Mrs. Vane. +'Why did you not put on your diamonds?' 'I-did-put on my diamonds,' +stammered Lady Isabel. 'But I--took them off again.' 'What on earth +for?'" That's the other lady speaking there-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear.... + +DAN: "'What on earth for?' ... 'I did not like to be too fine,' +answered Lady Isabel, with a laugh--" (_turning over_) "--and a +blush. 'They glittered so! I feared it might be thought I had put them +on to look fine.'" + +MRS. BRAMSON (_absently_): Good, isn't it? + +DAN (_flicking ash_): Oh, yes, reelistic.... (_Reading_) "'I +see you mean to set up among that class of people who pree-tend to +dee-spise ornyment,' scornfully ree-marked Mrs. Vane. 'It is the +ree-finement of aff-affectation, Lady Isabel----'" + +_An excited knock at the kitchen door._ DORA _enters._ DAN +_turns back the page and surveys what he has been reading, scratching +his head._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_the old edge to her voice_): What is it? + +DORA: Them men's in the wood again. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What men? + +DORA: The men lookin' for that Mrs. Chalfont. + +_A pause._ DAN _hums "Dames" under his breath._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: You don't mean to tell me they're still at it? But +they've been pottering about since ... when was that day Mr. Dan left +the Tallboys? + +DORA (_stressing a little bitterly_): _Mister_ Dan? + +DAN (_smiling_): Ahem!... + +DORA: _Mister_ Dan first came to work for you, mum, a week last +Monday.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, I think it's a disgrace---- + +DORA: _I_'ve found something! + +DAN'S _humming stops abruptly; he swivels round and looks at_ +DORA, _his face unseen by the audience._ OLIVIA _and_ MRS. +BRAMSON _stare at_ DORA; _a pause._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: _You've_ found something? + +OLIVIA: What? + +DORA (_excited_): This! + +_She holds out her left arm and lets jail from her fist the length of +a soiled belt. A pause._ OLIVIA _puts down her pencil and pad, +goes to her, and looks at the belt._ + +OLIVIA: Yes, of course, it's mine! I missed it last week.... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_baulked of excitement_): Oh yes, I thought I +recognised it.... What nonsense!... + +DAN _looks at her; chuckling._ + +DORA (_going, dolefully_): I'm ever so disappointed.... + +_She goes into the kitchen._ OLIVIA _goes to the armchair by the +fireplace._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: She'll be joining Scotland Yard next.... Go on, dear. + +DAN (_reading_): "'It is the ree-finement of affectation, Lady +Isabel----'" + +_The clock chimes. + +(Clapping his hands, to_ MRS. BRAMSON) Ah! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_pleased_): Oh, Danny ... + +_He hurries to the medicine cupboard and pours medicine into a +spoon._ HUBERT _comes in from the front door._ + +HUBERT (_eagerly_): Have you heard? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_eagerly_): What? + +HUBERT: Dora's found a belt! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_disappointed again_): Oh ... it was Olivia's. + +HUBERT: I say, what a shame!... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Tch, tch!... All this sensation-mong---- + +DAN _drowns her speech by deftly pouring the spoonful of medicine +down her throat. He pushes her chocolate-box towards her, and strides +briskly into the hall._ + +Horrid.... + +DAN (_taking a soft hat from the rack and putting it on_): Good +for you, though, the way you are.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear. + +DAN (_coming into the room, and beginning to take off his +overalls_): And now it's time for your walk.... (_Smiling at_ +OLIVIA) It's all right, I got trousers on.... (_Peeling the overalls +over his feet, and tossing them on to the left window-seat_) Listen +to me talking about your walk, when you'll be in a chair all the +time.... (_Chuckling, to_ HUBERT) That's funny, isn't it!... +(_Going to_ MRS. BRAMSON) Come on, I got your shawl and your rug +in the hall.... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he wheels her into the hall_): Have you got my +pills? + +DAN: I got them in my pocket. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And my chocolates? + +DAN: I got them in my pocket too. Here's your hat--better put it on +yourself. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear. + +DAN: And here's your shawl. + +MRS. BRAMSON: It isn't a shawl, it's a cape. + +DAN: Well, I don't know, do I? And I carry your rug on my shoulder.... +(_To the others_) See you later! Be good! + +_Shutting the front door, his voice dying as the chair passes the +left window._ + +Down this way to-day.... + +_A pause. HUBERT and OLIVIA look at each other._ + +OLIVIA (_suddenly_): What do _you_ think of him? + +HUBERT (_a little taken aback_): Him? Grannie's white-headed boy, +you mean? Oh, he's all right. (_Heavily_.) A bit slow on the +uptake, of course. I wish he'd occasionally take that fag-end out of +his mouth. + +OLIVIA: He does. For _her_. + +HUBERT: That's true. That's why he's made such a hit with her. Funny I +haven't been able to manage it. In two weeks, too ... it's uncanny. + +OLIVIA: Uncanny?... I think it's clever. + +HUBERT: You don't think he's a wrong 'un, do you? + +OLIVIA: What do we know about him? + +HUBERT: Why ... his Christian name? + +OLIVIA: And that's all. + +HUBERT: He looks pretty honest. + +OLIVIA: Looks? (_After a pause_.) It's rather frightening to think +what a face can hide.... I sometimes catch sight of one looking at me. +Careful lips, and blank eyes.... And then I find I'm staring at myself +in the glass ... and I realise how successfully I'm hiding the thoughts +I know so well ... and then I know we're all ... strangers. Windows, +with blinds, and behind them ... secrets. What's behind _his_ +eyes? (_After a pause, with a smile_) You're quite right, it +_is_ morbid. + +HUBERT: D'you think he's a thief or something? By Jove, I left my links +on the washstand before lunch! + +OLIVIA: He's acting ... every minute of the time. I know he is! But +he's acting pretty well, because I don't know _how_ I know.... +He's walking about here all day, and talking a little, and smiling, and +smoking cigarettes.... Impenetrable ... that's what it is! What's going +on--in his mind? What's he thinking of? (_Vehemently_ ) He +_is_ thinking of something! All the time! What is it? + +_DAN enters from the front door and smiles broadly at them._ + +DAN: Anybody seen my lady's pills? It's a matter of life and death.... +I thought _I_ had 'em. + +_HUBERT chuckles._ + +OLIVIA (_after a pause, in a level voice_): Oh, yes. They're in +the top drawer of the desk. I'm so sorry. + +DAN: Thank you. + +_He salutes her, goes to the desk, and takes out the pills. They +watch him._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_off_) Danny! + +DAN: Oh, yes, here they are.... + +HUBERT (_to say something_): Is she feeling off colour again? + +DAN (_on his way to the front door_): Off colour? She's never been +on it, man! To hear her go on you'd think the only thing left is +artificial respiration, And chocolates.... (_Laughing, and +calling_) Coming! + +_He goes, shutting the front door behind him._ + +HUBERT: No, really you have to laugh! + +OLIVIA: But what you've just seen ... that's exactly what I mean! It's +acting! He's not being himself for a minute--it's all put on for our +benefit ... don't you see? + +HUBERT (_banteringly_): D'you know, I think you're in love with +him. + +OLIVIA (_with rather more impatience than is necessary_): Don't +be ridiculous. + +HUBERT: I was only joking. + +OLIVIA: He's common and insolent, and I dislike him intensely. + +MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen._ + +MRS. TERENCE: What'll you 'ave for tea, scones or crumpets? Can't make +both. + +OLIVIA: What d'_you_ think of Dan? + +MRS. TERENCE: Dan? Oh, 'e's all right. Bit of a mystery. + +HUBERT: Oh. + +MRS. TERENCE (_shutting the kitchen door and coming into the middle +of the room_): Terrible liar, o' course. But then a lot of us are. +Told me he used to 'unt to 'ounds and 'ave 'is own pack. Before 'e went +up in the world and went as a page-boy, I suppose. + +OLIVIA (_to_ HUBERT): You see? He wouldn't try that on with us, +but couldn't resist it with her. + +HUBERT: I wonder how soon the old girl'll get his number?... Oh, but +fair play, we're talking about the chap as if he were the most +terrible---- + +MRS. TERENCE: Why, what's 'e done? + +HUBERT: Exactly. + +OLIVIA: I don't know, but I feel so strongly ... Is Dora there?... +(_Calling cautiously_) Dora! + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, she won't know anything. She's as 'alf-witted as +she's lazy, and that's sayin' a lot. She'd cut 'er nose off to stop the +dust-bin smelling sooner than empty it, she would. + +DORA _comes in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron._ + +DORA: Did somebody say Dora? + +OLIVIA: Has Dan said any more about marrying you? + +DORA: No. _She_ 'asn't brought it up again, either. + +OLIVIA: Does he talk to you at all? + +DORA (_perplexed_): Oh ... only how-do-you-do and beg-your-pardon. +I've never really spent any time in 'is company, you see. Except, o' +course-- + +HUBERT: Quite. What's your idea of him? + +DORA: Oh.... (_Moving to the centre of the room_) 'E's all right. +Takes 'is fun where 'e finds it. And leaves it.... Cracks 'imself up, +you know. Pretends 'e doesn't care a twopenny, but always got 'is eye +on what you're thinking of 'im ... if you know what I mean. + +OLIVIA: Yes, I do. That incredible vanity ... they always have it. +Always. + +HUBERT: Who? + +_A pause._ + +OLIVIA: Murderers. + +_A pause. They stare at her._ + +HUBERT: Good God!... + +MRS. TERENCE: D'you mean ... this woman they're looking for? + +OLIVIA: I'm sure of it. + +MRS. TERENCE: But 'es's such a--such a ordinary boy-- + +OLIVIA: That's just it--and then he's suddenly so ... extraordinary. +I've felt it ever since I heard him sing that song--I told you-- + +HUBERT: That "mighty-lak-a-rose" thing, you mean? Oh, but it's a pretty +well-known one-- + +OLIVIA: It's more than that. I've kept on saying to myself: No, +murder's a thing we read about in the papers; it isn't real life; it +can't touch us. ... But it can. And it's here. All round us. In the +forest ... in this house. We're ... living with it. (_After a pause, +rising decisively_) Bring his luggage in here, will you, Mrs. +Terence? + +MRS. TERENCE (_staggered_): 'Is luggage? (_Recovering, to_ +DORA) Give me a 'and. + +_Wide-eyed, she goes into the kitchen, followed by_ DORA. + +HUBERT: I say, this is a bit thick, you know--spying-- + +OLIVIA (_urgently_): We may never have the house to ourselves +again. + +_She runs to each window and looks out across the forest._ MRS. +TERENCE _returns carrying luggage: one large and one small +suitcase_. DORA _follows, lugging an old-fashioned thick leather +hat-box_. MRS. TERENCE _places the suitcases on the table_; +DORA _plants the hat-box in the middle of the floor._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_in a conspiratorial tone_): This is all. + +HUBERT: But look here, we can't do this-- + +OLIVIA _snaps open the lid of the larger suitcase with a jerk. A +pause. They look, almost afraid_. DORA _moves to the back of the +table._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_as_ OLIVIA _lifts it gingerly_): A dirty shirt ... + +HUBERT: That's all right. + +OLIVIA: A clean pair of socks ... packet of razor-blades ... + +HUBERT: We shouldn't be doing this--I feel as if I were at school +again-- + +MRS. TERENCE: Singlet ... + +OLIVIA: Half ticket to Shepperley Palais de Danse ... + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, it's a proper 'aunt! + +DORA: Oh, 'ere's a pocket-book. With a letter. + +(_She gives the letter to_ MRS. TERENCE _and the pocket-book +to_ OLIVIA.) + +HUBERT: Look here, this is going a bit too far--you can't do this to a +chap-- + +MRS. TERENCE (_taking the letter from the envelope_): Don't be +silly, dear, your wife'll do it to you 'undreds of times.... +(_Sniffing the note-paper_) Pooh.... (_Reading, as they crane +over her shoulder_) "Dear Baby-Face my own ..." Signed Lil.... + +OLIVIA: What awful writing.... + +MRS. TERENCE (_reading, heavily_): "... Next time you strike +Newcastle, O.K. by me, baby...." Ooh! + +HUBERT: Just another servant-girl.... Sorry, Dora.... + +DORA (_lugubriously_): O.K. + +OLIVIA (_rummaging in the pocket-book_): Bus ticket to Thorburton, +some snaps ... + +MRS. TERENCE: Look at 'er _bust_! + +OLIVIA: Here's a group.... Look, Hubert.... + +HUBERT _joins her in front of the table._ + +HUBERT: This wench is rather fetching. + +MRS. TERENCE (_crowding between them_): Look at _'er_!... The +impudence, 'er being taken in a bathing-suit!... + +DORA: He's not in this one, is 'e? + +HUBERT (_impressed_): Oh, I say ... there _she_ is! + +MRS. TERENCE and DORA: who? + +HUBERT: The missing female! In front of the tall man.... You remember +the photograph of her in the _Mirror_? + +DORA: It's awful to think she may be dead. Awful.... + +MRS. TERENCE: Looks ever so sexy, doesn't she? + +DORA: 'Ere's one of a little boy-- + +OLIVIA: How extraordinary.... + +HUBERT: What? + +OLIVIA: It's himself. + +DORA: The little Eton collar.... Oh, dear ... ever so sweet, isn't it? +MRS. TERENCE: Now that's what I call a real innocent face.... + +HUBERT (_going to the centre of the room_): Well, that's that.... + +OLIVIA: Wait a minute, wasn't there another one? (_Seeing the +hat-box_) Oh, yes.... + +HUBERT (_lifting it on to a chair_): Oh, this; yes.... + +DORA: Old-fashioned, isn't it? + +MRS. TERENCE: I should think he got it from a box-room at the +Tallboys-- + +OLIVIA (_puzzled_): But it looks so extraordinary--(_She gives a +sudden gasp.) + +They look at her. She is staring at the box. A pause._ + +HUBERT: What is it? + +OLIVIA: I don't know.... Suppose there is something ... inside it? + +_A pause. They stare at her, fascinated by her thought. The front +door bangs. They are electrified into action: but it is too late. It +is_ DAN. _He goes briskly to the table._ + +DAN: She wants to sit in the sun now and have a bit of _East +Lynne_. Talk about changin' your mind-- + +_He sees the suitcases on the table before him, and is motionless and +silent. A pause. The others dare not move. He finally breaks the +situation, takes up "East Lynne" from the table, and walks slowly back +to the front door. He stops, looks round at_ HUBERT, _smiles, and +comes down to him. His manner is normal--too normal._ + +Could I have it back, please? It's the only one I got.... + +HUBERT: Oh ... yes, of course.... (_Handing him the pocket-book._) + +DAN (_taking it_): Thank you very much. + +HUBERT: Not at all ... I ... (_To_ OLIVIA) Here, you deal with +this. It's beyond me. + +DAN (_to him_): Did you see the picture of me when I was a little +fellow? + +HUBERT: Yes.... Very jolly. + +DAN (_turning to_ MRS. TERENCE): Did _you?_ It was in the +inside of my wallet. + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh ... was it? + +DAN: Yes. Where I should be keeping my money, only any bit of money I +have I always keep _on_ me. (_Turning to_ HUBERT) Safer, don't +you think? + +HUBERT (_smiling weakly_): Ye-es.... + +DAN: I only keep one ten-bob note in this wallet, for emergencies.... +(_Looking_) That's funny. It's gone. + +_He looks at_ HUBERT. _The others look blankly at one +another._ ... I expect I dropped it somewhere.... What did you think +of the letter? + +HUBERT: Letter? + +DAN: You got in your hand. + +HUBERT: Well, I didn't--er-- + +DAN: Means well, does Lil; but we had a row. (_Taking back the +letter_) She would spy on me. And if there's anythin' I hate, it's +spyin'. Don't you agree? + +HUBERT: Ye-es. + +DAN: I'd sooner have anythin' than a spy. (_To_ MRS. TERENCE) Bar +a murderer, o' course. + +_A pause. He is arranging his property in his wallet._ + +HUBERT (_incredulous_): What--what did you say? + +DAN (_turning to him casually_): Bar a murderer, o' course! + +OLIVIA _steps forward_. MRS. TERENCE _steps back from the chair +on which the hat-box has been placed_. + +OLIVIA (_incisively_): Talking of murder, do you know anything +about Mrs. Chalfont's whereabouts at the moment? + +DAN _turns to her, and for the first time sees the hat-box. He +stands motionless. A pause._ + +DAN: Mrs. Who? OLIVIA: You can't pretend you've never heard of her. + +DAN (_turning to_ HUBERT, _recovering himself_): Oh, Mrs. +_Chalfont's_ whereabouts! I thought she said her name was Mrs. +Chalfontswear. (_Profusely_) Silly.... Swear--about--couldn't +think---- + +OLIVIA: Well? + +DAN (_still looking at_ HUBERT, _brightly, after a pause_): +I've nothin' to go on, but I think she's been ... murdered. + +HUBERT: Oh, you do? + +DAN: Yes, I do. + +MRS. TERENCE: Who by? + +DAN: They say she had several chaps on a string, and----(_Suddenly_) +There was one fellow, a London chap, a bachelor, very citified--with a +fair moust----(_He stares at_ HUBERT.) + +HUBERT (_touching his moustache, unconsciously_): What are you +looking at me for? + +DAN: Well ... you wasn't round these parts the day she bunked, was you? + +HUBERT: Yes, I was, as a matter of fact. + +DAN (_significantly_): Oh.... + +MRS. BRAMSON'S VOICE (_calling in the garden_): Danny! + +HUBERT (_flustered_): What in God's name are you getting at? + +DAN _smiles and shrugs his shoulders regretfully at him, and goes out +through the front door._ OLIVIA _sits at the table._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_to_ HUBERT, _perplexed_): Are you sure you +didn't do it, sir? + +HUBERT: I'm going out for a breath of air. + +_He takes his hat and stick as he goes through the hall, and goes out +through the front door._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_to_ OLIVIA): You don't still think-- + +OLIVIA: I won't say any more. I know how silly it sounds. + +DORA _runs into the kitchen, snivelling._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_to_ OLIVIA): The way you worked us all up! Doesn't +it all go to show-- + +_She hears_ DAN _return, and looks round apprehensively. He goes +to the table slowly and looks at the two suitcases._ + +DAN (_smiling, to_ MRS. TERENCE): Would you mind please givin' me +a hand with the tidyin' up?... (_Taking up the suitcases_) And +carryin' the other one?... (_Going into the kitchen, followed by_ +MRS. TERENCE _carrying the hat-box_) Looks as if we're goin' on +our holidays, doesn't it?... + +OLIVIA _is alone for a moment. She stares before her, perplexed._ +DAN _returns. She looks away. He looks at her, his eyes narrowed. A +pause. Studying her, he takes from a pocket of his jacket a +formidable-looking clasp-knife, unclasps it, and tests the blade +casually with his fingers. He glances at the mantelpiece, crosses +to it, takes down a stick, and begins to sharpen the end of it._ +OLIVIA _watches him. A pause._ OLIVIA: _Did_ you do it? + +_He whittles at the stick._ + +DAN: You wouldn't be bad-lookin' without them glasses. + +OLIVIA: It doesn't interest me very much what I look like. + +DAN: Don't you believe it.... (_Surveying the shavings in the +hearth_) Tch!... Clumsy.... (_Looking round, and seeing a +newspaper lying on the table_) Ah.... + +_He crosses to the table. + +(Smiling, with the suspicion of a mock-bow_) Excuse me.... (_He +unfolds the newspaper on the table and begins to whittle the stick over +it_.) + +OLIVIA: You're very conceited, aren't you? + +DAN (_reassuringly_): Yes.... + +OLIVIA: And you _are_ acting all the time, aren't you? + +DAN (_staring at her, as if astonished_): Actin'? Actin' what? +(_Leaning over the table, on both arms_) Look at the way I can +look you in the eyes. I'll stare you out.... + +OLIVIA (_staring into his eyes_): I have a theory it's the +criminals who _can_ look you in the eyes, and the honest people +who blush and look away. + +DAN (_smiling_): Oh.... + +OLIVIA (_after a pause, challenging_): It's a very blank look, +though, isn't it? + +DAN (_smiling_): Is it? + +OLIVIA: You are acting, aren't you? + +DAN (_after a pause, in a whisper, almost joyfully_): Yes! + +OLIVIA (_fascinated_): And what are you like when you stop acting? + +DAN: I dunno, it's so long since I stopped. + +OLIVIA: But when you're alone? + +DAN: Then I act more than ever I do. + +OLIVIA: Why? + +DAN: I dunno; 'cause I like it.... (_Breaking the scene, pulling a +chair round to the table_) Now what d'ye say if _I_ ask a +question or two for a change? (_Sitting in the chair facing her_) +Just for a change.... Why can't you take a bit of an interest in some +other body but me? + +OLIVIA (_taken aback_): I'm not interested in you. Only you don't +talk. That's bound to make people wonder. + +DAN: I can talk a lot sometimes. A drop o' drink makes a power o' +difference to me. (_Chuckling_) You'd be surprised.... Ah.... + +_He returns to his work._ + +OLIVIA: I wonder if I would.... + +DAN: I know you would.... + +OLIVIA: I think I can diagnose you all right. + +DAN: Carry on. + +OLIVIA: You haven't any feelings ... at all.... + +_He looks slowly up at her. She has struck home._ + +But you live in a world of your own.... A world of your own +imagination. + +DAN: I don't understand so very well, not bein' so very liter-er-airy. + +OLIVIA: You follow me perfectly well. + +_He shrugs his shoulders, laughs, and goes on whittling._ + +DAN: D'you still think there's been a bit o' dirty work? + +OLIVIA: I don't know what to think now. I suppose not. + +DAN (_intent on his work, his back to the audience_): +Disappointed? + +OLIVIA: What on earth do you mean? + +DAN: Disappointed? + +OLIVIA (_laughing, in spite of herself_): Yes, I suppose I am. + +DAN: Why? + +OLIVIA (_the tension at last relaxed_): Oh, I don't know.... +Because nothing much has ever happened to me, and it's a dull day, and +it's the depths of the country.... I don't know.... + +_A piercing scream from the bottom of the garden. A pause._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_shrieking from the other side of the house_): +Danny!... Danny! + +_The clatter of footsteps in the garden_. DORA _runs in from the +hall, breathless and terrified._ + +DORA: They're diggin' ... in the rubbish-pit ... + +OLIVIA: Well? + +DORA: There's something sticking out.... + +OLIVIA: What? + +DORA: A hand ... Somebody's hand!... Oh, Miss Grayne ... somebody's +hand.... + +_She runs whimpering into the kitchen, as_ OLIVIA _rises and +runs to the left window and looks out._ + +MRS. BRAMSON'S VOICE (_calling off_): Danny! + +DAN _rises slowly, his back to the audience._ + +OLIVIA _turns and suddenly sees him. Horror grows in her face. + +The blare of music. The lights dim out._ + + + +SCENE II + +_The music plays in darkness for a few bars, then the curtain rises +again. The music fades away. + +Late afternoon, two days later._ OLIVIA _is seated above the table +snipping long cuttings from newspapers and pasting them into a ledger. +A knock at the front door. She starts nervously. Another knock._ +MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen carrying a smoothing-iron._ + +MRS. TERENCE: If it's them police again, I'll bash their helmets in +with this. If it lands me three months, I will. + +OLIVIA: They're from Scotland Yard, and they don't wear helmets. + +MRS. TERENCE: Then they're going to get 'urt.... (_Going into the +hall_) I can tell by their looks what they think. And they better +not think it, neither. + +OLIVIA: And what do they think? + +MRS. TERENCE (_over her shoulder_): They think it's me. I know +they think it's me. + +_She goes into the hall and opens the front door._ + +HUBERT (_outside_): Good afternoon, Mrs. Terence. + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh ... come in, sir. (_Coming back into the room_) +It's a civilian for a change. + +_She is followed by_ HUBERT. + +HUBERT (_to_ OLIVIA): I say, this is all getting pretty terrible, +isn't it? + +OLIVIA: Yes, terrible. + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, terrible, terrible. There's one word for it; it's +terrible. Forty-eight hours since they found 'er. They'll never get 'im +now. + +HUBERT: Terrible.... + +MRS. TERENCE: There was another charabanc load just after two o'clock. +All standin' round the rubbish-'cap eatin' sandwiches. Sensation, +that's what it is. + +OLIVIA: Would you like some food, Hubert? + +HUBERT: Well, I-- + +MRS. TERENCE: They're still looking for the 'ead. + +HUBERT (_to_ OLIVIA, _with a slight grimace_): No, thanks. I +had lunch. + +MRS. TERENCE: Mangled, she was, mangled.... Did you see your name in +the _Express_, sir? + +HUBERT: I--er--did catch a glimpse of it, yes. + +MRS. TERENCE: Little did you think, sir, when you was digging that pit +for my rubbish, eh? 'E may 'ave been _watchin'_ you digging it ... +ooh! I have to sit in my kitchen and think about it. + +HUBERT: Then why don't you leave? + +MRS. TERENCE (_indignantly_): How can I leave, with the whole +village waitin' on me to tell 'em the latest? (_Going towards the +kitchen_) I 'eard 'er 'ead must have been off at one stroke. One +stroke.... + +HUBERT: Really. + +MRS. TERENCE (_turning at the door_): She wasn't interfered with, +though. + +_She goes into the kitchen._ + +HUBERT: How they all love it.... How's the old lady bearing up in the +old invalid chair, eh? + +OLIVIA: She's bursting out of it with health. And loving it more than +anybody. This is my latest job--a press-cutting book. There was a +picture of her in the _Chronicle_ yesterday; she bought twenty-six +copies. + +HUBERT (_taking his pipe out_): She'll get to believe she did it +herself in the end.... Is she in? + +OLIVIA: She's gone over to Breakerly to interview a local paper. + +HUBERT: The lad pushing the go-cart?... He's the devoted son all +right, isn't he? + +OLIVIA (_after a pause_): I don't talk to him much. + +HUBERT: Nice fellow. I've thought a lot about that prying into his +things--pretty bad show, really, you know. (_Going to the left +window_) I wonder if they'll ever nab him? + +OLIVIA (_with a start_): What do you mean? + +HUBERT: The fellow who did it.... Wonder what he's doing now. + +OLIVIA: I wonder. + +HUBERT: Damn clever job, you know, quietly.... That was a rum touch, +finding that broken lipstick in the rubbish-heap.... You know, the fact +they still have no idea where this woman's head is---- + +OLIVIA (_convulsively_): Don't.... + +HUBERT: Sorry. + +OLIVIA (_after a pause_): It's a bit of a strain. + +HUBERT (_earnestly_): Then why don't you leave? + +OLIVIA: I--I couldn't afford it. + +HUBERT: But you _could_, if you married me! Now, look here---- +(_Going to her_) You said you'd tell me to-day. So here I am--er-- +popping the question again. There's nothing much to add, except to go +over the old ground again, and say that I'm not what you'd call a +terribly brainy chap, but I am straight. + +OLIVIA: Yes, I know. + +HUBERT: Though, again, I'm not the sort that gets into corners with a +pipe and never opens his mouth from one blessed year's end to the +other. I can talk. + +OLIVIA: Yes, you can. + +HUBERT: An all-round chap, really--that's me. + +OLIVIA: Yes. + +HUBERT: Well? + +OLIVIA: I'm sorry, Hubert, but I can't. + +HUBERT: You can't? But you told me that day we might make a go of it, +or words to that effect---- + +OLIVIA: I've thought it over since then, and I'm afraid I can't. + +_A pause._ + +HUBERT: What's changed you? + +OLIVIA: Nothing's changed me, Hubert. I've just thought the matter +over, that's all. + +_A pause. He crosses towards the fireplace._ + +HUBERT: Is it another man? + +OLIVIA (_startled_): Don't be silly. (_Collecting herself_) +What man could I possibly meet, cooped up here? + +HUBERT: Sorry. Can't be helped. Sorry. + +DAN (_in the garden_): There we are.--Nice outing, eh-- + +OLIVIA: So am I. + +_The front door opens and_ DAN _wheels in_ MRS. BRAMSON. +_He is as serene as ever, but more animated than before. He is +dressed the same as in the previous scene, and is smoking his usual +cigarette._ HUBERT _sits at the table._ + +DAN (_hanging up her rug in the hall_): Back home again.--I put +your gloves away---- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he wheels her in_): I feel dead. (_To_ +HUBERT) Oh, it's you.... I feel dead. + +DAN (_sitting beside her on the sofa, full of high spirits_): +Don't you be a silly old 'oman, you look as pretty as a picture-- +strawberries and cream in your face, and not a day over forty; and when +I've made you a nice cup of tea you'll be twenty-five in the sun and +eighteen with your back to the light, so you think yourself lucky! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he digs her in the side_): Oh, Danny, you are a +terror! (_To the others_) He's been at me like this all the way. I +must say it keeps me alive. + +DAN (_as she hands him her hat and cape_): But you feel dead. I +get you. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_kittenish_): Oh, you caution! You'll be the death +of me! + +DAN (_wagging his finger at her_): Ah-ha! (_Hanging up her +things in the hall_) Now what'd you like a drop of in your tea--gin, +whisky, liqueur, brandy, or a nice dollop of sailor's rum, eh? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Just listen to him! Now don't make me laugh, dear, +because there's always my heart. + +DAN (_sitting beside her again_): You've lost your heart, you know +you have, to the little feller that pushes your pram--you know you +have! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_laughing shrilly_): Pram! Well! (_Her laugh cut +short_) It's wicked to laugh, with this--this thing all round us. + +DAN (_sobering portentously_): I forgot. (_As she shivers_) +Not in a draught, are you? (_Shutting the front door and coming down +to_ HUBERT) D'you remember, Mr. Laurie, me pulling your leg about +you havin' done it? Funniest thing out!... Talk about laugh! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_fondly_): Tttt!... + +DAN (_a glint of mischief in his eyes_): I think I better get the +tea before I get into hot water. + +_He goes towards the kitchen._ + +OLIVIA: Mrs. Terence is getting the tea. + +DAN (_at the door_): She don't make tea like me. I'm an old +sailor, Miss Grayne. Don't you forget that. + +_He goes into the kitchen._ + +OLIVIA: I'm not interested, I'm afraid. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_wheeling herself to the front of the table_): Look +here, Olivia, you're downright rude to that boy, and if there's one +thing that never gets a woman anywhere, it's rudeness. What have you +got against him? + +HUBERT: Surely he's got more to say for himself to-day than when I met +him before? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, he's been in rare spirits all day. + +HUBERT: Johnny Walker, judging by the whiff of breath I got just now. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Meaning whisky? + +HUBERT: Yes. + +OLIVIA: I've never heard you make a joke before, Hubert. + +HUBERT: Didn't realise it was one till I'd said it. Sorry. + +MRS. BRAMSON: It's not a joke; it's a libel. + +_A knock at the front door._ + +Come in. + +NURSE LIBBY _enters from the front door._ + +The boy's a teetotaller. + +HUBERT: Sorry; my mistake. + +NURSE: Good afternoon. Shall I wait for you in your bedroom? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes. I feel absolutely dead. + +NURSE (_turning at the bedroom, eagerly_): Anything new _re_ +the murder? + +HUBERT: I believe her head was cut off at one stroke. + +NURSE (_brightly_): Oh, poor thing.... + +_She goes into the bedroom_. DAN _returns from the kitchen, +carrying a tray of tea and cakes._ + +DAN: There you are, fresh as a daisy.--Three lumps, as per usual, and +some of the cakes you like---- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he pours out her tea_): Thank you, dear.... Let +me smell your breath. (_After smelling it_) Clean as a whistle. +Smells of peppermints. + +OLIVIA: Yes. There were some in the kitchen. + +HUBERT: Oh. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ HUBERT, _as_ DAN _pours out two more +cups_): So you won't stay to tea, Mr.--er---- + +HUBERT: Er--(_rising_)--no, thank you.... + +_DAN sits in HUBERT's chair._ + +I think I'll get off before it's dark. Good-bye, Mrs. Bramson. Good-bye, +Mr.--er---- + +DAN (_grinning and saluting_): Dan. Just Dan. + +_He opens the press-cutting ledger._ + +HUBERT (_to OLIVIA_): Good-bye. + +OLIVIA (_rises_): Good-bye, Hubert. I'm sorry. + +DAN _raises his cup as if drinking a toast to_ MRS. BRAMSON. +_She follows suit._ + +HUBERT: Can't be helped.... It'll get dark early to-day, I think. Funny +how the evenings draw in this time of year. Good night. + +DAN: Good night. + +HUBERT (_to OLIVIA_): Good-bye. + +OLIVIA: Good-bye. + +_She goes to the right window-seat._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Johnny Walker, indeed! Impertinence! + +DAN (_drinking tea and scanning press-cuttings_): Johnny Walker? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Never you mind, dear.... Any more of those terrible +people called? Reporters? Police? + +DAN (_gaily_): There's a definite fallin' off in attendance to-day. +Sunday, I expect. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Hush, don't talk like that, dear. + +DAN: Sorry, mum. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And don't call me "mum"! + +DAN: Well, if I can't call you Mrs. Bramson, what can I call you? + +MRS. BRAMSON: If you were very good, I might let you call me ... +mother! + +DAN (_mischievously, his hand to his forehead_): O.K., mother. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_joining in his laughter_): Oh, you are in a mood +to-day! (_Suddenly, imperiously_) I want to be read to now. + +DAN (_crossing to the desk, in mock resignation_): Your servant, +mother o' mine.... What'll you have? _The Channings? The Red Court +Farm_? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'm tired of them. + +DAN: Well ... oh! (_Taking a large Bible from the top of the +desk_) What about the Bible? + +MRS. BRAMSON: The Bible? + +DAN: It's Sunday, you know. I was brought up on it! + +MRS. BRAMSON: So was I ... _East Lynne's_ nice, though. + +DAN: Not as nice as the Bible. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_doubtfully_): All right, dear; makes a nice +change.... Not that I don't often dip into it. + +DAN: I'm sure you do. (_Blowing the dust off the book_) Now +where'll I read? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_unenthusiastic_): At random's nice, don't you +think, dear? + +DAN: At random.... Yes.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: The Old Testament. + +DAN (_turning over leaves thoughtfully_): At random in the Old +Testament's a bit risky, don't you think so? + +MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_to MRS. BRAMSON_): The paperboy's at the back door +and says you're in the _News of the World_ again. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_interested_): Oh!... (_Simulating +indifference_) That horrible boy again, when the one thing I want is +to blot the whole thing out of my mind. + +MRS. TERENCE: 'Ow many copies d'you want? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Get three. + +MRS. TERENCE: _And_ 'e says there's a placard in Shepperley with +your name on it. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What does it say? + +MRS. TERENCE: "Mrs. Bramson Talks." + +_She goes back towards the kitchen._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh. (_As_ MRS. TERENCE _reaches the kitchen +door_) Go at once into Shepperley and order some. At once! + +MRS. TERENCE: Can't be done. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Can't be done? What d'you mean, can't be done? It's a +scandal. What are you paid for? + +MRS. TERENCE (_coming back, furious_): I'm not paid! And 'aven't +been for two weeks! And I'm not coming to-morrow unless I am! Put that +in your copybook and blot it. + +_She goes back into the kitchen, banging the door._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Isn't paid? Is she mad? (_To_ OLIVIA) Are you mad? +Why don't you pay her? + +OLIVIA (_coming down_): Because you don't give me the money to do +it with. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I--(_fumbling at her bodice_)--wheel me over to that +cupboard. + +OLIVIA _is about to do so, when she catches_ DAN'S _eye._ + +OLIVIA (_to_ DAN, _pointedly_): Perhaps you'd go into the +kitchen and get the paper from Mrs. Terence? + +DAN (_after a second's pause, with a laugh_): Of course I will, +madam! Anythin' you say! Anythin' you say! + +_He careers into the kitchen, still carrying the Bible._ MRS. +BRAMSON _has fished up two keys on the end of a long black tape._ +OLIVIA _wheels her over to the cupboard above the fireplace._ + +OLIVIA: If you give me the key, I'll get it for you. + +MRS. BRAMSON: No fear! _She unlocks the cupboard; it turns out to be +a small but very substantial safe. + +(Unlocking the safe, muttering to herself_) + +Won't go into Shepperley, indeed ... never heard of such +impertinence.... + +_She takes out a cash-box from among some deeds, unlocks it with the +smaller key, and takes out a mass of five-pound and pound notes._ + +The way these servants--what are you staring at? OLIVIA: Isn't it +rather a lot of money to have in the house? + +MRS. BRAMSON: "Put not your trust in banks" is my motto, and always +will be. + +OLIVIA: But that's hundreds of pounds! It---- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_handing her two notes_): D'you wonder I wouldn't +let you have the key? + +OLIVIA: Has ... anybody else asked you for it? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_locking the cash-box and putting it back in the +safe_): I wouldn't let a soul touch it. Not a soul. Not even Danny. + +_She snaps the safe, locks it, and slips the keys back into her +bosom._ + +OLIVIA: Has _he_ asked you for it? + +MRS. BRAMSON: It's enough to have those policemen prying, you forward +girl, without---- + +OLIVIA (_urgently_): Please! Has he? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, he did offer to fetch some money yesterday for the +dairy. But I wouldn't give him the key! Oh, no! + +OLIVIA: Why? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Do I want to see him waylaid and attacked, and my key +stolen? Oh, no, I told him, that key stays on me-- + +OLIVIA: Did he--know how much money there is in there? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I told him! Do you wonder I stick to the key, I said-- +what _is_ the matter with you, all these questions? + +OLIVIA: Oh, it's no use-- + +_She goes to the armchair below the fireplace and sits in it._ +DAN _returns from the kitchen, with a copy of the "News of the +World," the Bible tucked under his arm, a cigarette stub between his +lips._ + +DAN: He says they're sellin' like hot cakes! (_Handing the paper +to_ MRS. BRAMSON) There you are, I've found the place for you--whole +page, headlines an' all.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, yes.... + +DAN _stands with one knee on the sofa, and turns over the pages of +his Bible. + +(Reading breathlessly, her back to the fireplace_) + +"... The Victim's Past" ... with another picture of me underneath! +(_Looking closer, dashed_) Oh, taken at Tonbridge the year before +the war; really it isn't right.... (_To_ OLIVIA, _savouring +it_) "The Bungalow of Death!... Gruesome finds.... Fiendish murderer +still at large.... The enigma of the missing head ... where is it +buried?" ... Oh, yes! (_She goes on reading silently to herself._) + +DAN (_suddenly, in a clear voice_): "... Blessed is the man ... +that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly ... nor standeth in the +way of sinners ... nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful...." + +MRS. BRAMSON (_impatiently_): Oh, the print's too small.... + +DAN (_firmly_): Shall I read it to you? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear, do.... + +_He shuts the Bible with a bang, throws it on the sofa, and takes the +paper from her._ OLIVIA _watches him intently; he smiles at her +slowly and brazenly as he shakes out the paper._ + +DAN (_reading laboriously_): "... The murderer committed the crime +in the forest most--in the forest, most likely strippin' beforehand---" + +_DORA comes in from the kitchen, and stands at the door, arrested by +his reading. She is dressed, in Sunday best. + +(reading_) "... and cleansin' himself afterwards in the forest lake----" + +MRS. BRAMSON: Tch! tch! + +DAN (_reading_): "... He buried the body shallow in the open pit, +cunnin'ly chancin' it bein' filled, which it was next day, the +eleventh----" (_Nodding at_ OLIVIA) That was the day 'fore I come +here.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: So it was ... + +DAN (_reading_): "The body was nude. Attempts had been made to ... +turn to foot of next column...." (_Doing so_) "Attempts had been +made to ... era--eradicate fingerprints with a knife...." + +(_Far away, the tolling of village bells. Reading_) + +"... The head was severed by a skilled person, possibly a butcher. The +murderer--" (_He stops suddenly, raises his head, smiles, takes the +cigarette stub, puts it behind his ear, and listens._) + +OLIVIA: What's the matter? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Can you hear something? Oh, I'm scared.... + +DAN: I forgot it was Sunday.... They're goin' to church in the +villages. All got up in their Sunday best, with prayer-books, and the +organ playin', and the windows shinin'. Shinin' on holy things, because +holy things isn't afraid of the daylight. + +MRS. BRAMSON: But, Danny, what on earth are you-- + +DAN (_quelling her_): But all the time the daylight's movin' over +the floor, and by the end of the sermon the air in the church is +turnin' grey.... And people isn't able to think of holy things so much +no more, only of the terrible things that's goin' on outside, that +everybody's readin' about in the papers! (_Looking at_ OLIVIA) +Because they know that though it's still daylight, and everythin's +or'nary and quiet ... to-day will be the same as all the other days, +and come to an end, and it'll be night.... (_After a pause, coming to +earth again with a laugh at the others, throwing the newspaper on the +sofa_) I forgot it was Sunday! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_overawed_) Good gracious ... what's come over you, +Danny? + +DAN (_with exaggerated animation_): Oh, I speechify like anything +when I'm roused! I used to go to Sunday school, see, and the thoughts +sort of come into my head. Like as if I was readin' off a book! +(_Slapping his Bible_.) + +MRS. BRAMSON: Dear, dear.... You should have been a preacher. You +should! + +DAN _laughs loudly and opens the Bible_. + +DORA (_going to the table and collecting the tea-tray_): I never +knew 'e 'ad so many words in 'is 'ead.... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_suddenly_): I want to lie down now, and be +examined. + +DAN (_rising_): Anything you say, mother o' mine.... Will you have +your medicine in your room as well, eh? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear.... Olivia, you _never_ got a new bottle +yesterday! + +DAN (_as he wheels her into her bedroom_): I got it to-day while +you were with the chap.... Popped in at the chemist's. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, thank you, dear. The one by the mortuary?... Oh, my +back.... Nurse!... + +_Her voice is lost in the bedroom. The daylight begins to fade. The +church bells die away._ + +DORA: My sister says all this is wearin' me to a shadow. + +OLIVIA: It is trying, isn't it? + +DORA: You look that worried, too, Miss Grayne. + +OLIVIA: Do I? + +DORA: As if you was waiting for something to 'appen. + +OLIVIA: Oh? + +DORA: Like an explosion. A bomb, or something. + +OLIVIA (_smiling_): I don't think that's very likely.... +(_Lowering her voice_) Have you talked to Dan at all this week? + +DORA: Never get the chance. 'E's too busy dancin' attendance on Madame +Crocodile.... + +DAN _comes back from the bedroom, his cigarette stub between his +lips. + +(Going towards the kitchen_) I'm off. You don't catch me 'ere after +dark. + +DAN: Why, will ye be late for courting? + +DORA: If I was, they'd wait for me. Good afternoon, Miss Grayne. Good +afternoon ... _sir_. + +DAN (_winking at_ OLIVIA): Are you sure they'd wait? + +DORA: You ought to know. + +_She goes into the kitchen_. DAN _and_ OLIVIA _are +alone_. DAN _crosses to the sofa with a laugh, humming gaily_. + +DAN: "Their home addresses ... and their caresses ..." + +_He sits on the end of the sofa._ + +OLIVIA: You've been drinking, haven't you? + +DAN (_after a pause, quizzically_): You don't miss much, do you? + +OLIVIA (_significantly_): No. + +DAN (_rubbing his hands_): I've been drinking, and I feel fine! +... (_Brandishing the Bible_) You wouldn't like another dose of +reading? + +OLIVIA: I prefer talking. + +DAN (_putting down the Bible_): Carry on. + +OLIVIA: Asking questions. + +DAN (_catching her eye_): Carry on! + +_He studies his outspread hands_. + +OLIVIA (_crisply_): Are you sure you were ever a sailor? Are you +sure you weren't a butcher? + +_A pause. He looks at her, slowly, then breaks the look abruptly._ + +DAN (_rising with a smile and standing against the mantelpiece_): +Aw, talkin's daft! _Doin's_ the thing! + +OLIVIA: You can talk too. + +DAN: Aw, yes! D'you hear me just now? She's right, you know, I should +ha' been a preacher. I remember, when I was a kid, sittin' in Sunday +school--catching my mother's eye where she was sitting by the door, +with the sea behind her; and she pointed to the pulpit, and then to me, +as if to say, that's the place for you.... (_Far away, pensive_) I +never forgot that. + +_A pause_. + +OLIVIA: I don't believe a word of it. + +DAN: Neither do I, but it sounds wonderful. (_Leaning over her, +confidentially_) I never saw my mam, and I never had a dad, and the +first thing I remember is ... Cardiff Docks. And you're the first 'oman +I ever told that, so you can compliment yourself. Or the drink. +(_Laughing_) I think it's the drink. + +OLIVIA: You _do_ live in your imagination, don't you? + +DAN (_reassuringly_): Yes.... It's the only way to bear with the +awful things you have to do. + +OLIVIA: What awful things? + +DAN: Well ... (_Grinning like a child and going back to the +sofa_) Ah-ha!... I haven't had as much to drink as all that! +(_Sitting on the sofa_) Ah-ha!... + +OLIVIA: You haven't a very high opinion of women, have you? + +DAN _makes a gesture with his hands, pointing the thumbs downwards +with a decisive movement._ + +DAN: Women don't have to be drunk to talk.... You don't talk that much, +though; fair play. (_Looking her up and down, insolently_) You're +a dark horse, you are. + +_A pause. She rises abruptly and stands at the fireplace, her back to +him. She takes off her spectacles._ + +Ye know, this isn't the life for you. What is there to it? Tell me +that! + +OLIVIA (_sombrely_): What is there to it ...? + +DAN: Yes.... + +OLIVIA: Getting up at seven, mending my stockings or washing them, +having breakfast with a vixenish old woman and spending the rest of the +day with her, in a dreary house in the middle of a wood, and going to +bed at eleven.... I'm plain, I haven't got any money, I'm shy, and I +haven't got any friends. + +DAN (_teasing_): Don't you _like_ the old lady? + +OLIVIA: I could kill her. + +_A pause. She realises what she has said._ + +DAN (_with a laugh_): Oh, no, you couldn't!... Not many people +have it in them to kill people.... Oh, no! + +_She looks at him. A pause. He studies the palms of his hands, +chuckling to himself._ + +OLIVIA: And what was there to your life at the Tallboys? + +DAN: My life? Well.... The day don't start so good, with a lot of +stuck-up boots to clean, and a lot of silly high heels all along the +passage waitin' for a polish, and a lot of spoons to clean that's been +in the mouths of gapin' fools that looks through me as if I was a dirty +window hadn't been cleaned for years.... (_Throwing his stub into the +fire in a sudden crescendo of fury_) Orders, orders, orders; go +here, do this, don't do that, you idiot, open the door for me, get a +move on--I was never meant to take orders, never!... Down in the +tea-place there's an old white beard wigglin'. "Waiter, my tea's stone +cold." (_Furiously_) I'm not a waiter, I'm a millionaire, and +everybody's under me!... And just when I think I got a bit o' peace.... +(_His head in his hands_) ... there's somebody ... lockin' the +bedroom door ... (_raising his head_) ... won't let me get out; +talk, talk, talk, won't fork out with no more money, at me, at me, at +me, won't put no clothes on, calls me everythin', lie on the floor and +screams and screams, so nothin' keeps that mouth shut only ... (_A +pause._) It's rainin' out of the window, and the leaves is off the +trees ... oh, Lord ... I wish I could hear a bit o' music ... +(_smiling, slowly_) ... And I do, inside o' myself! And I have a +drop of drink ... and everything's fine (_Excited_) And when it's +the night ... + +OLIVIA (_with a cry_): Go on! + +_A pause. He realises she is there, and turns slowly and looks at +her._ + +DAN (_wagging his finger with a sly smile_): Aha! I'm too fly for +you! You'd like to know, wouldn't you? Aha! Why would you like to know? +(_Insistently, mischievously_) Why d'you lie awake ... all night? + +OLIVIA: Don't!... I'm frightened of you!... + +DAN (_triumphantly, rising and facing her, his back half to the +audience_): Why? + +OLIVIA (_desperate_): How do you know I lie awake at night? Shall +I tell you why? Because you're awake yourself! You can't sleep, can +you?... (_Triumphantly, in her turn_) You _can't sleep!_ There's +one thing that keeps you awake ... isn't there? One thing you've pushed +into the back of your mind, and you can't do any more about it, and you +never will.... And do you know what it is?... It's a little thing. A box. +Only a box. But it's ... rather heavy.... + +DAN _looks at her. A long pause. He jerks away with a laugh and sits +at the sofa again._ DAN (_quietly, prosaically_): The way you +was going through my letters the other day--that had to make me +smile.... _His voice dies away. Without warning, as if seeing +something in his mind which makes him lose control, he shrieks loudly, +clapping his hands over his eyes: then is silent. He recovers slowly +and stares at her. + +(After a pause, in a measured voice_) It's the only thing that keeps +me awake, mind you! The only thing! (_Earnestly_) But I don't know +what to do.... You see, nothing worries me, nothing in the world, only +... I don't like a pair of eyes staring at me ... (_his voice trailing +away_) ... with no look in them. I don't know what to do ... I don't +know ... + +_Without warning he bursts into tears. She sits beside him and seems +almost about to put her arms about him. He feels she is there, looks +into her eyes, grasps her arm, then pulls himself together abruptly. + +(Rising_) But it's the only thing! I live by myself ... (_clapping +his chest_) ... inside here--and all the rest of you can go hang! +_After_ I've made a use of you, though! Nothing's going to stop +me! I feel fine! I-- + +BELSIZE _crosses outside. A sharp knock at the front door. She half +rises. He motions her to sit again. + +(With his old swagger_) All right! Anybody's there, I'll deal with +'em--I'll manage myself all right! You watch me! + +_He goes to the front door and opens it._ + +BELSIZE (_at the door, jovially_): Hello, Dan! How's things? + +DAN (_letting him in and shutting the door_): Not so bad.... + +_He brings_ BELSIZE _into the room._ + +BELSIZE (_as OLIVIA goes_): Afternoon, Miss Grayne! + +OLIVIA (_putting on her spectacles_): How do you do.... + +_She makes an effort to compose herself and hurries across to the +sun-room._ BELSIZE'S _attitude is one of slightly exaggerated +breeziness:_ DAN'S _is one of cheerful naivete almost as limpid as +on his first appearance._ + +BELSIZE: Bearing up, eh? + +DAN: Yes, sir, bearin' up, you know.... + +BELSIZE: We haven't scared you all out of the house yet, I see! + +DAN: No chance! + +BELSIZE: All these blood-curdlers, eh? + +DAN: I should say so! + +BELSIZE: No more news for me, I suppose? + +DAN: No chance! + +BELSIZE: Ah ... too bad! Mind if I sit down? + +DAN: (_pointing to the sofa_): Well, this is the nearest you get +to comfort in this house, sir. + +BELSIZE: No, thanks, this'll do.... (_Sitting on a chair at the +table, and indicating the cuttings_) I see you keep apace of the +news? + +DAN: I should say so! They can't hardly wait for the latest on the +case in this house, sir. + +BELSIZE: Ah, well, it's only natural.... I got a bit of a funny feeling +bottom of my spine myself crossing by the rubbish-heap. + +DAN: Well, will you have a cigarette, sir?... (_His hand to his +jacket pocket_) Only a Woodbine---- + +BELSIZE: No, thanks. + +DAN (_after a pause_): Would you like to see Mrs. Bramson, sir? + +BELSIZE: Oh, plenty of time. How's she bearing up? + +DAN: Well, it's been a bit of a shock for her, them finding the remains +of the lady at the bottom of her garden, you know. + +BELSIZE: The remains of the lady! I wish you wouldn't talk like that. +I've seen 'em. + +DAN (_looking over his shoulder at the cuttings_): Well, you see, +I haven't. + +BELSIZE: You know, I don't mind telling you, they reckon the fellow +that did this job was a bloodstained clever chap. + +DAN (_smiling_): You don't say? + +BELSIZE (_casually_): He was blackmailing her, you know. + +DAN: Tch! tch! Was he? + +BELSIZE: Whoever he was. + +DAN: She had a lot of fellows on a string, though, didn't she? + +BELSIZE (_guardedly_): That's true. + +DAN: Though this one seems to have made a bit more stir than any of the +others, don't he? + +BELSIZE: Yes. (_Indicating the cuttings_) Regular film star. Made +his name. + +DAN (_abstractedly_): If you _can_ make your name withou +nobody knowin' what it is, o' course. + +BELSIZE (_slightly piqued_): Yes, of course.... But I don't reckon +he's been as bright as all that. + +DAN (_after a slight pause_): Oh, you don't? + +BELSIZE: No! They'll nab him in no time. + +DAN: Oh ... Mrs. Bramson'll be that relieved. And the whole country +besides.... + +BELSIZE: Look here, Dan, any self-respecting murderer would have taken +care to mutilate the body to such a degree that nobody could recognise +it--and here we come and identify it first go! (DAN _folds his arms +and looks thoughtful_.) Call that clever?... What d'you think? + +DAN _catches his eye and crosses to the sofa._ + +DAN: Well, sir, I'm a slow thinker, I am, but though it might be clever +to leave the lady unide--unide---- + +BELSIZE: Unidentified. + +DAN (_sitting on the edge of the sofa_): Thank you, sir.... +(_Laboriously_) Well, though it be clever to leave the lady +unidentified and not be caught ... hasn't it been more clever to leave +her _i_dentified ... and still not be caught? + +BELSIZE: Why didn't you sleep in your bed on the night of the tenth? + +_A pause._ DAN _stiffens almost imperceptibly._ + +DAN: What you say? + +BELSIZE: Why didn't you sleep in your bed on the night of the murder? + +DAN: I did. + +BELSIZE (_lighting his pipe_): You didn't. + +DAN: Yes I did. Oh--except for about half an hour--that's right. I +couldn't sleep for toffee and I went up the fire-escape--I remember +thinkin' about it next day when the woman was missing, and trying to +remember if I could think of anything funny---- + +BELSIZE: What time was that? (_He rises, crosses to the fireplace, +and throws his match into it._) + +DAN: Oh, about ... oh, you know how you wake up in the night and don't +know what time it is.... + +BELSIZE (_staring at him doubtfully_): Mmm ... + +DAN: I could never sleep when I was at sea, neither, sir. + +BELSIZE: Mmm. (_Suddenly_) Are you feeling hot? + +DAN: No. + +BELSIZE: Your shirt's wet through. + +DAN (_after a pause_): I've been sawin' some wood. + +BELSIZE: Why didn't you tell us you were having an affair with the +deceased woman? + +DAN: Affair? What's that? + +BELSIZE: Come along, old chap, I'll use a straighter word if it'll help +you. But you're stalling. She was seen by two of the maids talking to +you in the shrubbery. Well? + +_A pause._ DAN _bursts into tears, but with a difference. His +breakdown a few minutes ago was genuine; this is a good performance, +very slightly exaggerated._ BELSIZE _watches him dispassionately, +his brows knit._ + +DAN: Oh, sir ... it's been on my conscience ... ever since ... + +BELSIZE: So you did have an affair with her? + +DAN: Oh, no, sir, not that! I avoided her ever after that day she +stopped me, sir!... You see, sir, a lady stayin' where I was workin', +and for all I knew married, and all the other fellers she'd been after, +and the brazen way she went on at me.... You're only human, aren't you, +sir, and when they asked me about her, I got frightened to tell about +her stopping me.... But now you know about it, sir, it's a weight off +my mind, you wouldn't believe!... (_Rising, after seeming to pull +himself together_) As a matter of fact, sir, it was the disgust-like +of nearly gettin' mixed up with her that was keepin' me awake at +nights. + +BELSIZE: I see.... You're a bit of a milk-sop, aren't you? + +DAN (_apparently puzzled_): Am I, sir? + +BELSIZE: Yes.... That'll be all for to-day. I'll let you off this once. + +DAN: I'm that relieved, sir! + +BELSIZE (_crossing to the table for his hat_): But don't try and +keep things from the police another time. + +DAN: No chance! + +BELSIZE: They always find you out, you know. + +DAN: Yes, sir. Would you like a cup o' tea, sir? + +BELSIZE: No, thanks. I've got another inquiry in the village.... +(_Turning back, with an afterthought_) Oh, just one thing--might +as well just do it, we're supposed to with all the chaps we're +questioning, matter of form--if you don't mind. I'll have a quick look +through your luggage. Matter of form.... + +DAN: Oh, yes. + +BELSIZE: Where d' you hang out? + +DAN (_tonelessly_): Through the kitchen ... here, sir.... First +door facin' ... + +BELSIZE: First door facing---- + +DAN: You can't miss it. + +BELSIZE: I'll find it. + +DAN: It's open, I think. + +BELSIZE _goes into the kitchen. A pause,_ DAN _looks slowly +round the room. + +(Turning mechanically to the kitchen door_) You can't miss it.... + +_A pause. The noise of something being moved beyond the kitchen._ +Dan _sits on the sofa with a jerk, looking before him. His fingers +beat a rapid tattoo on the sides of the sofa. He looks at them, rises +convulsively and walks round the room, grasping chairs and furniture as +he goes round. He returns to the sofa, sits, and begins the tattoo +again. With a sudden wild automatic movement he beats his closed fists +in rapid succession against the sides of his head._ BELSIZE +_returns, carrying the hat-box._ + +BELSIZE (_crossing and placing the hat-box on the table_): This +one's locked. Have you got the key? + +DAN _rises, and takes a step into the middle of the room. He looks at +the hat-box at last._ + +DAN (_in a dead voice_): It isn't mine. + +BELSIZE: Not yours? + +DAN: No. + +BELSIZE: Oh?... Whose is it, then? + +DAN: I dunno. It isn't mine. + +OLIVIA _stands at the sun-room door._ + +OLIVIA: I'm sorry, I thought ... Why, inspector, what are you doing +with my box? + +BELSIZE: Yours? + +OLIVIA: Yes! It's got all my letters in it! + +BELSIZE: But it was in ... + +OLIVIA: Oh, Dan's room used to be the box-room. + +BELSIZE: Oh, I see.... + +OLIVIA: I'll keep it in my wardrobe; it'll be safer there.... _With +sudden feverish resolution, she picks up the box and carries it into +the kitchen._ DAN _looks the other way as she passes him._ + +BELSIZE: I'm very sorry, miss. (_Scratching his head_) I'm afraid +I've offended her.... + +DAN (_smiling_): She'll be all right, sir.... + +BELSIZE: Well, young feller, I'll be off. You might tell the old lady I +popped in, and hope she's better. + +DAN (_smiling and nodding_): Thank you, sir.... Good day, sir. + +BELSIZE: Good day. + +_He goes out through the front door into the twilight, closing it +behind him._ + +DAN: Good day sir.... + +_A pause,_ DAN _crumples to the floor in a dead faint._ + +QUICK CURTAIN + + + +ACT III + +SCENE 1 + +_Half an hour later. The light has waned; the fire is lit and throws +a red reflection into the room._ DAN _is lying on the sofa, eyes +closed._ NURSE LIBBY _sits at the end of the sofa holding his +pulse._ MRS. TERENCE _stands behind the sofa with a toby jug of +water._ + +NURSE: There, lovey, you won't be long now.... Ever so much steadier +already.... What a bit o' luck me blowin' in to-day!... Tt! tt! Pouring +with sweat, the lad is. Whatever's he been up to? + +MRS. TERENCE: When I walked in that door and saw 'im lyin' full stretch +on that floor everything went topsy-wopsy. (_Pressing the jug to_ +DAN'S _lips_) It did! The room went round and round.... + +NURSE:(_as_ DAN _splutters_): Don't choke 'im, there's a +love.... + +MRS. TERENCE: D'you know what I said to meself when I saw 'im lyin' +there? + +NURSE: What? + +MRS. TERENCE: I said, "That murderer's been at 'im," I said, "and it's +the next victim." I did! + +NURSE: So you would! Just like the pictures.... 'Old your 'ead up, +love. + +MRS. TERENCE (_as_ NURSE LIBBY _supports_ DAN'S _head_): +Got a _nice_ face, 'asn't he? + +NURSE: Oh, yes!... (As DAN'S eyes flicker) Shh, he's coming to.... DAN +_opens his eyes and looks at her._ + +Welcome back to the land of the living! + +MRS. TERENCE: Thought the murderer'd got you! _A pause._ DAN +_stares, then sits up abruptly._ + +DAN: How long I been like that? + +NURSE: We picked you up ten minutes ago, and I'd say it was twenty +minutes before that, roughly-like, that you passed away. + +MRS. TERENCE: Passed away, don't frighten the boy!... Whatever come +over you, dear? + +DAN: I dunno. Felt sick, I think. (_Recovering himself_) Say no +more about it, eh? Don't like swinging the lead.... (_His head in his +hand._) + +MRS. TERENCE: Waiting 'and and foot on Madame Crocodile, enough to wear +King Kong out.... + +NURSE: That's better, eh? + +DAN: Is it really getting dark? + +MRS. TERENCE: It's a scandal the way the days are drawin' in.... 'Ave +another sip---- + +DAN (_as she makes to give him more water, to_ NURSE LIBBY): You +haven't such a thing as a nip of brandy? + +NURSE (_opening her bag_): Yes, lovey, I nearly gave you a drop +just now--- + +DAN _takes a flask from her and gulps; he takes a second mouthful. He +gives it back, shakes himself, and looks before him._ + +MRS. TERENCE: Better? + +DAN: Yes.... Clears the brain no end.... Makes you understand +better.... (_His voice growing in vehemence_) Makes you see what a +damn silly thing it is to get the wind up about anything. _Do_ +things! Get a move on! Show 'em what you're made of! Get a move on!... +Fainting, indeed.... Proper girl's trick, I'm ashamed of myself.... +(_Looking round, quietly_) The light's going.... The daytime's as +if it's never been; it's dead.... (_Seeing the others stare, with a +laugh_) Daft, isn't it? + +DORA _brings in an oil lamp from the kitchen; she is wearing her +outdoor clothes. She crosses to the table, strikes a match with her +back to the audience and lights the lamp, then the wall lamp. The +twilight is dispelled._ + +NURSE (_shutting her bag, rising_): You'll be all right; a bit +light-headed after the fall, I expect. (_Going to the hall_) Well, +got an abscess the other side of Turneyfield, _and_ a slow +puncture. So long, lovey. + +DAN (_sitting up_): So long! + +NURSE: Be good, all! + +_She bustles out of the front door. A pause._ DAN _sits looking +before him, drumming his fingers on the sofa._ + +DORA (_closing the right window-curtains_): What's the matter with +him? + +MRS. TERENCE: Conked out. + +DORA: Conked out? Oh, dear.... D'you think 'e see'd something? I'll +tell you what it is! + +MRS. TERENCE (_closing the left window-curtains_): What? + +DORA: The monster's lurking again. + +_Mechanically_ DAN _takes a box of matches and a cigarette from +his pocket._ + +MRS. TERENCE: I'll give you lurk, my girl, look at the egg on my toby! +Why don't you learn to wash up, instead of walkin' about talking like +three-halfpennyworth of trash? + +DORA: I can't wash up properly in that kitchen, with that light. Them +little oil lamps isn't any good except to set the place on fire. + +_She goes into the kitchen._ DAN _drums his fingers on the +sofa._ MRS. BRAMSON _wheels herself from the bedroom._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: I dropped off. Why didn't somebody wake me? Have I been +missing something? + +MRS. TERENCE: That Inspector Belsize called. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_testily_): Then why didn't somebody wake me? Dan, +what did he want? + +DAN: Just a friendly call. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You seem very far away, dear. What's the matter with +you?... Dan! + +DAN: Bit of an 'eadache, that's all. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Doesn't make you deaf, though, dear, does it? + +MRS. TERENCE: Now, now, turnin' against the apple of your eye; can't +'ave that goin' on---- + +_A sharp knock at the front door._ DAN _starts up and goes +towards the hall._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ MRS. TERENCE): See who it is. + +MRS. TERENCE (_at the front door, as_ DAN _is about to push past +her_): Oh ... it's only the paraffin boy.... (_To the boy outside, +taking a can from him_) And you bring stuff on a Saturday night +another time. + +DAN _is standing behind_ MRS. BRAMSON'S _chair._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: I should think so----MRS. TERENCE _comes into the +room._ DAN _strikes a match for his cigarette._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_with a cry_): Oh! Can't you see this is paraffin? +(_She puts the can on the floor just inside the hall._) + +MRS. BRAMSON: You went through my side like a knife---- + +MRS. TERENCE: If people knew what to do with their money, they'd put +electric light in their 'omes 'stead of dangerin' people's lives. + +_She goes into the kitchen._ DAN _stares before him, the match +flickering._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_blowing out the match_): You'll burn your fingers! +Set yourself on fire! Absent-minded!... I woke up all of a cold shiver. +Had a terrible dream. + +DAN (_mechanically_): What about? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Horrors.... I'm freezing. Get me my shawl off my bed, +will you, dear?... (_As he does not move_) My shawl, dear! DAN +_starts, collects himself and smiles his most ingratiating smile._ + +DAN: I am sorry, mum. In the Land of Nod, I was! Let me see, what was +it your highness was after? A shawl? No sooner said than done.... You +watch me! One, two, three! + +_He runs into the bedroom._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Silly boy ... silly boy.... + +OLIVIA _comes in quickly from the kitchen. She is dressed to go out +and carries a suitcase._ Where are you off to? + +OLIVIA: I--I've had a telegram. A friend of mine in London's very ill. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with her? + +OLIVIA: Pneumonia. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Where's the telegram? + +OLIVIA: I--I threw it away. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Where d'you throw it? + +OLIVIA: I--I---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: You haven't had any telegram. + +OLIVIA (_impatiently_): No, I haven't! + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with you? + +OLIVIA: I can't stay in this house to-night. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Why not? + +OLIVIA: I'm frightened. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, don't be---- + +OLIVIA: Listen to me. I've never known before what it was to be +terrified. But when I saw today beginning to end, and to-night getting +nearer and nearer ... I felt my finger-tips getting cold. And I knew it +was fright ... stark fright. I'm not a fool, and I'm not hysterical ... +but I've been sitting in my room looking at myself in the glass, trying +to control myself, telling myself what are real things ... and what +aren't. I don't know any longer. The day's over. The forest's all round +us. Anything may happen.... You shouldn't stay in this house to-night. +That's all. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_blustering_): It's very silly of you, trying to +scare an old woman with a weak heart. What have you got to be +frightened of? + +OLIVIA: There's been a murder, you know. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Nobody's going to murder _you_! Besides, we've got +Danny to look after us. He's as strong as an ox, and no silly nerves +about him.... What _is_ it you're afraid of? + +OLIVIA: I-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Sly, aren't you?... Where are you staying to-night? + +OLIVIA: In Langbury, with Hubert Laurie and his sister. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Not too frightened to make arrangements with _him_, +eh? + +OLIVIA: Arrangements? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, some people would call it something else. + +OLIVIA (_losing her temper_): Oh, won't you see ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'm very annoyed with you. How are you going to get +there? + +OLIVIA: Walking. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Through the forest? Not too frightened for that, I see. + +OLIVIA: I'd rather spend to-night in the forest than in this house. + +MRS. BRAMSON: That sounds convincing, I must say. Well, you can go, but +when you come back, I'm not so sure I shall answer the door. Think that +over in the morning. + +OLIVIA: The morning?... + +DAN'S VOICE (_in the bedroom, singing_): "... their home addresses +... and their caresses ... linger in my memory of those beautiful +dames ..." + +OLIVIA _listens, holding her breath; she tries to say something +to_ MRS. BRAMSON, _and fails. She makes an effort, and runs out of +the front door. It bangs behind her._ DAN _comes back from the +bedroom, carrying a shawl._ + +DAN (_over-casual_): What was that at the door? + +MRS. BRAMSON: My niece. Gone for the night, if you please. + +DAN: Gone ... for the night? (_He stares before him._) + +MRS. BRAMSON: Would you believe it? Says she's frightened.... + +_A pause._ + +Come along with the shawl, dear. I'm freezing.... + +DAN (_with a laugh, putting the shawl round her_): Don't know +what's up with me-- + +_He goes to the table and looks at a newspaper._ MRS. TERENCE +_comes in from the kitchen, her coat on._ + +MRS. TERENCE: Well, I must go on me way rejoicin'. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Everybody seems to be going. What is all this? + +MRS. TERENCE: What d'you want for lunch tomorrow? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Lunch to-morrow?... Let me see.... + +DAN: Lunch? To-morrow?... (_After a pause_) What about a nice +little steak? + +MRS. BRAMSON: A steak, let me see.... Yes, with baked potatoes-- + +DAN: And a nice roly-poly puddin', the kind you like? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I think so. + +MRS. TERENCE: Something light. O.K. Good night. + +_She goes back into the kitchen._ DAN _scans the newspaper +casually._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_inquisitive_): What are you reading, dear? + +DAN (_breezily_): Only the murder again. About the clues that +wasn't any good. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_suddenly_): Danny, _d'you_ think Olivia's a +thief? + +DAN: Shouldn't be surprised. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What! + +DAN: Her eyes wasn't very wide apart. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_working herself up_): Goodness me ... my +jewel-box ... what a fool I was to let her go--my earrings ... the +double-faced-- + +_She wheels herself furiously into her bedroom._ DORA, _her hat +and coat on, comes in from the kitchen in time to see her go._ + +DORA: What's up with her? + +DAN (_still at his paper_): Thinks she's been robbed. + +DORA: Oh, is that all.... That's the fourth time this month she's +thought that. One of these days something _will_ 'appen to her, +and will I be pleased? Oh, baby!... Where's Mrs. Terence? + +DAN: Gone, I think. + +DORA (_frightened_): Oh, law, no! (_Calling_) Mrs. Terence! + +MRS. TERENCE (_calling, in the kitchen_): Ye-es! + +DORA: You 'aven't gone without me, 'ave you? + +MRS. TERENCE (_appearing at the kitchen door, spearing a hatpin into +her hat_): Yes, I'm 'alf-way there. What d'you think? + +DORA: You did give me a turn! (_Going to the table and taking the +box_) I think I'll 'ave a choc. (_Walking towards the hall_) I +couldn't 'ave walked a step in those trees all by myself. Coming? + +DAN (_suddenly_): I'd have come with you with pleasure, only I'm +going the other direction. Payley Hill way. + +MRS. TERENCE (_surprised_): _You_ going out? + +DORA: Oh? + +DAN (_in the hall, putting on hat and mackintosh_): Yes. I still +feel a bit funny. + +MRS. TERENCE: But you can't leave 'er 'ere by herself! + +DORA: She'll scream the place down! + +DAN (_over-explanatory_): I asked her, this very minute, and she +don't seem to mind. You know what she is. Said it'd do me good, and +won't hear of me stayin'. It's no good arguin' with her. + +DORA _puts the chocolates down on the occasional table. She and_ +MRS. TERENCE _follow_ DAN _into the hall._ + +DORA: No good arguin' with her--don't I know it! + +MRS. TERENCE: You 'ave a nice long walk while you get the chance; you +wait on 'er too much.... (_Closing the plush curtains so that they +are all out of sight_) Ooh, ain't it dark.... Got the torch, Dora? + +DORA: O.K., honey. + +MRS. TERENCE: Laws, I'd be frightened goin' off by meself.... Well, +we'd best 'urry, Dora.... Good night, Dan. Pity you aren't comin' our +way---DAN'S VOICE: See you in the morning! Good night! + +DORA'S VOICE: O.K.!... Toodle-oo! + +_The door bangs. A pause._ + +DAN'S VOICE (_outside the left window_): Good night! + +MRS. TERENCE'S VOICE (_outside the right window_): Good night! + +DORA (_same_): Good night! + +_Silence._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_farther away_): Good night! + +DORA (_same_): Good night! + +MRS. BRAMSON _comes trundling back from the bedroom in her chair._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Good night here, good night there; anybody'd think it was +the night before Judgment Day. What's the matter with ... (_Seeing +the room is empty_) Talking to myself. Wish people wouldn't walk out +of rooms and leave me high and dry. Don't like it. (_She wheels +herself round to the table. A pause. She looks round impatiently._) +Where's my chocolates?... + +_She looks round again, gets up out of her chair for the first time +in the play, walks quite normally across the room to the mantelpiece, +sees her chocolates are not there, walks up to the occasional table, +and takes up the box._ + +That girl's been at them again.... + +_She walks back to her chair, carrying the chocolates, and sits in it +again. She begins to munch. She suddenly stops, as if she has heard +something._ + +What's that?... + +_She listens again. A cry is heard far away._ + +Oh, God ... Danny! + +_The cry is repeated._ + +Danny! + +_The cry is heard a third time._ + +It's an owl ... Oh, Lord! + +_She falls back in relief, and eats another chocolate. The clock +strikes the half-hour. Silence. The silence gets on her nerves. + +(After a pause, calling softly_) Danny!... (_As there is no +answer_) What's the boy doing in that kitchen? + +_She takes up the newspaper, sees a headline, and puts it down +hastily. She sees the Bible on the table, opens it, and turns over +pages. + +(After a pause, suddenly_) I've got the jitters. I've got the +jitters. I've got the jitters.... (_Calling loudly_) Danny! + +_She waits; there is complete silence. She rises, walks over to the +kitchen door, and flings it wide open. + +(Shouting_) Danny! (_No reply._) He's gone ... They've all gone +... They've left me ... (_Losing control, beating her hands wildly on +her Bible_) Oh, Lord, help a poor old woman ... They've left me! +(_Tottering to the sun-room_) Danny ... where are you?... Danny +... I'm going to be murdered ... I'm going to be murdered!... Danny ... +(_Her voice rising, until she is shrieking hysterically_) Danny! +Danny! Danny! + +_She stops suddenly. Footsteps on the gravel outside the front door. + +(In a strangled whisper_) There's something outside ... something +outside ... Oh, heavens ... + +(_Staggering across to the sofa_) Danny, where are you? Where are +you? There's something outs-- + +_The front door bangs. She collapses on the sofa, terrified, her +enormous Bible clasped to her breast._ + +Oh, Lord, help me ... help me ... Oh, Lord, help me ... (_Muttering, +her eyes closed_) ... Forgive us our trespasses ... + +_The curtains are suddenly parted. It is_ DAN, _a cigarette +between his lips. He stands motionless, his feet planted apart, holding +the curtains. There is murder in his face. She is afraid to look, but +is forced to at last._ + +Danny ... Oh ... Oh ... + +DAN (_smiling, suddenly normal and reassuring_): That's all right +... It's only Danny ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Thank God ... (_Going off into laughing hysterics_) +Ah ... ah ... ah ... + +DAN _throws his cigarette away, lays his hat on the occasional table, +throws his mackintosh on the left window-seat, and sits beside her, +patting her, looking round to see no one has heard her cries._ + +I'll never forgive you, never. Oh, my heart ... Oh--oh--oh-- + +_He runs across to the medicine cupboard and brings back a brandy +bottle and two glasses._ + +DAN: Now have a drop of this ... (_As she winces at the taste_) Go +on, do you good ... (_As she drinks_) I am sorry, I am really ... +You see, they wanted me to see them to the main path, past the +rubbish-heap, see, in case they was frightened. ... Now that's +better, isn't it? + +_They are seated side by side on the sofa._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: I don't know yet ... Give me some more.... + +_He pours one out for her, and for himself. They drink._ + +All alone, I was ... (_Her face puckering with self pity_) Just an +old woman calling for help ... (_her voice breaking_) ... and no +answer.... + +DAN (_putting the bottle on the floor beside him_): Poor old mum, +runnin' about lookin' for Danny---- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): I wasn't running about as much as all +that ... Oh, the relief when I saw your face---- + +DAN: I bet you wasn't half glad, eh? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You're the only one that understands me, Danny, that's +what you are---- + +DAN (_patting her_): That's right---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: I don't have to tell you everything I've been through. I +don't have to tell you about my husband, how unkind and ungodly he +was--I wouldn't have minded so much him being ungodly, but oh, he +_was_ unkind ... (_Sipping_) And I don't have to tell _you_ how +unkind he was. You know. You just know ... whatever else I've not +been, I was _always_ a great one on psychology. + +DAN: You was. (_He takes her glass and fills it again and his +own._) + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'm glad those other people have gone. Awful screeching +common women. Answer back, answer back, answer back.... Isn't it time +for my medicine? + +_He hands her glass back. They both drink._ DAN _sits smiling +and nodding at her._ + +That day you said to me about me reminding you of your mother.... (DAN +_slowly begins to roll up his sleeves a little way._) These poets +and rubbishy people can think all they like about their verses and +sonnets and such--that girl Olivia writes sonnets--would you believe +it-- + +DAN: Fancy. + +MRS. BRAMSON: They can think all they like, that was a beautiful +thought. (_Her arm on his shoulder_) And when you think you're +just an ignorant boy, it's ... it's startling. + +DAN (_with a loud laugh_): That's right. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'll never forget that. Not as long as I live ... +(_Trying to stem her tears_) I want a chocolate now. + +DAN: Right you are!... (_Placing her glass and his own on the floor, +and walking briskly to the table_) A nice one with a soft centre, +the kind you like.... Why, here's one straight away.... (_He walks +slowly to the back of the sofa. In a level voice_) Now shut your +eyes ... open your mouth ... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_purring_): Oh, Danny.... You're the only one ... + +_She shuts her eyes. He stands behind her, and puts the chocolate +into her mouth. His fingers close slowly and involuntarily over her +neck: she feels his touch, and draws both his hands down, giggling, so +that his face almost touches hers._ + +(_Maudlin_) What strong hands they are.... You're a pet, my little +chubby-face, my baby-face, my Danny.... Am I in a draught? + +_A pause._ DAN _draws his hands slowly away, walks to the back, +and shuts the plush curtains._ + +I've got to take care of myself, haven't I? + +DAN (_turning slowly and looking at her_): You have. + +_He picks up the paraffin can briskly and goes towards the +kitchen._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: What are you-- + +DAN: Only takin' the paraffin tin in the kitchen. + +_He goes into the kitchen._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_half to herself_): That girl should have carried it +in. Anything to annoy me. Tomorrow--(_Turning and seeing that he is +gone_) Danny! (_Shrieking suddenly_) Danny! + +DAN _runs back from the kitchen._ + +DAN: What's the matter? + +_He looks hastily towards the hall to see no one has heard._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, dear, I thought-- + +DAN (_sitting on the back of the sofa_): I was only putting the +paraffin away. Now--(_He leans over the sofa, and raises his arm +slowly._) + +MRS. BRAMSON (_putting her hand on his arm_): I think I'll go to +bed now. + +DAN (_after a pause, dropping his arm_): O.K. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And I'll have my supper-tray in my room. +(_Petulantly_) Get me back into my chair, dear, will you? + +DAN (_jerkily_): O.K.... + +_He crosses to the invalid-chair._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Has she put the glass by the bed for my teeth? + +DAN (_bringing over the chair_): I put it there myself. + +_He helps her into the chair and pulls it over towards the +bedroom._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_suddenly, in the middle of the room_): I want to be +read to now. + +DAN (_after a pause of indecision_): O.K. (_Clapping his hands +effusively_) What'll you have? The old _East Lynne_? + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, I don't feel like anything sentimental to-night.... + +DAN (_looking towards the desk_): What'll you have, then? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I think I'd like the Bible. + +_A pause. He looks at her._ + +DAN: O.K. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he goes smartly to the sofa, fetches the Bible, +pulls up a chair to the right of her, sits, and looks for the +place_): That piece you were reading.... It's Sunday.... Isn't that +nice ... all the aches and pains quiet for once ... pretty peaceful.... + +DAN (_reading_): "Blessed is the man that walketh not in the +counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth +in the seat of the scornful...." + +MRS. BRAMSON (_drowsily_): You read so nicely, Danny. + +DAN: Very kind of you, my lady. (_Reading a little breathlessly_) +"But his delight is in the Law of the Lord; and in His law doth he +meditate day and night--" + +MRS. BRAMSON: Sh! + +DAN: What? + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's that? + +DAN: Can you hear something? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes! A sort of--thumping noise.... + +_She looks at him suddenly, leans forward, and puts her right hand +inside his jacket._ + +Why, Danny, it's you! It's your heart ... beating! + +_He laughs_. + +Well! Are you all right, dear? + +DAN: Fine. I been running along the path, see.... (_Garrulously_) +I been out of training, I suppose; when I was at sea I never missed a +day running round the decks, o' course.... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sleepily_): Of course. + +DAN (_speaking quickly, as if eager to conjure up a vision_): I +remember those mornings--on some sea--very misty pale it is, with the +sun like breathing silver where he's comin' up across the water, but +not blowing on the sea at all ... and the sea-gulls standing on the +deck-rail looking at themselves in the water on the deck, and only me +about and nothing else ... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_nodding sleepily_): Yes ... + +DAN: And the sun. Just me and the sun. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_nodding_): There's no sun now, dear; it's night! + +_A pause. He drums his fingers on the Bible._ + +DAN: Yes ... it's night now. (_Reading, feverishly_) "The ungodly +are not so, but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away----" + +MRS. BRAMSON: I think I'll go to bye-byes.... We'll have the rest +to-morrow, shall we? (_Testily_) Help me, dear, help me, you know +what I am---- + +DAN (_drumming his fingers: suddenly, urgently_): Wait a minute ... +I--I've only got two more verses---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Hurry it up, dear. I don't want to wake up in the morning +with a nasty cold. + +DAN (_reading slowly_): "... Therefore the ungodly shall not stand +in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.... +For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous ... But the way of the +ungodly ... shall perish ..." + +_A pause. He shuts the Bible loudly, and lays it on the table._ +MRS. BRAMSON _can hardly keep awake._ + +That's the end. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Is it?... Ah, well, it's been a long day---- + +DAN: Are you quite comfortable? + +MRS. BRAMSON: A bit achy. Glad to get to bed. Hope that woman's put my +bottle in all right. Bet she hasn't---- + +DAN: Sure you're comfortable? Wouldn't you like a cushion back of your +head? + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, dear, just wheel me---- + +DAN (_rising_): I think you'll be more comfortable with a cushion. +(_Rising, humming_) "I'm a pretty little feller, everybody knows ... +dunno what to call me ..." + +_He goes deliberately across, humming, and picks up a large black +cushion from the sofa. His hands close on the cushion, and he stands +silent a moment. He moves slowly back to the other side of her; he +stands looking at her, his back three-quarters to the audience and his +face hidden: he is holding the cushion in both hands._ + +MRS. BRAMSON _shakes herself out of sleep and looks at him._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: What a funny look on your face, dear. Smiling like +that.... (_Foolishly_) You look so kind ... + +_He begins to raise the cushion slowly._ + +So kind ... (_Absently_) What are you going to do with that +cushion?... + +_The lights dim gradually into complete darkness, and the music grows +into a thunderous crescendo._ + + + +SCENE II + +_The music plays a few bars, then dies down proportionately as the +lights come up again. + +Half an hour later. The scene is the same, with the same lighting; the +room is empty and the wheel-chair has been removed._ + +DAN _comes in from the sun-room, smoking the stub of a cigarette. He +crosses smartly, takes the bottle and glasses from the floor by the +sofa and places them on the table, pours himself a quick drink, places +the bottle on the floor next the desk, throws away his stub, takes +another cigarette from his pocket, puts it in his mouth, takes out a +box of matches, and lights a match. The clock chimes. He looks at it, +seems to make a decision, blows out the match, throws the matchbox on +the table, takes_ MRS. BRAMSON'S _tape and keys from his trouser +pocket, crosses quickly to the safe by the fireplace, opens it, takes +out the cash-box, sits on the sofa, unlocks the cash-box, stuffs the +keys back into his trousers, opens the cash-box, takes out the notes, +looks at them, delighted, stuffs them into his pocket, hurries into the +sun-room, returns a second later with the empty invalid chair, plants +it in the middle of the room, picks up the cushion from the floor above +the table, looks at it a moment, arrested, throws it callously on the +invalid chair, hurries into the kitchen, returns immediately with the +paraffin, sprinkles it freely over the invalid chair, places the can +under the table, lifts the paraffin lamp from the table, and is just +about to smash it over the invalid chair when there is the sound of a +chair falling over in the sun-room. His face inscrutable, he looks +towards it. He carries the lamp stealthily to the desk, puts it down, +looks round, picks a chair from near the table, and stands at the +sun-room door with the chair held high above his head. + +The stagger of footsteps;_ OLIVIA _stands in the doorway to the +sun-room. She has been running through the forest; her clothes are +wild, her hair has fallen about her shoulders, and she is no longer +wearing her spectacles. She looks nearly beautiful. Her manner is +quiet, almost dazed. He lowers the chair slowly and sits on the other +side of the table. A pause._ + +OLIVIA: I've never seen a dead body before.... I climbed through the +window and nearly fell over it. Like a sack of potatoes, or something. +I thought it was, at first.... And that's murder. + +_As he looks up at her._ + +But it's so ordinary.... I came back ... + +_As he lights his cigarette._ + +... expecting ... ha (_laughing hysterically_) ... I don't know +... and here I find you, smoking a cigarette ... you might have been +tidying the room for the night. It's so ... ordinary.... (_After a +pause, with a cry_) Why don't you _say_ something! + +DAN: I thought you were goin' to stay the night at that feller's. + +OLIVIA: I was. + +DAN: What d'you come back for? + +OLIVIA (_the words pouring out_): To find you out. You've kept me +guessing for a fortnight. Guessing hard. I very nearly knew, all the +time. But not quite. And now I do know. + +DAN: Why was you so keen on finding me out? + +OLIVIA (_vehemently, coming to the table_): In the same way any +sane, decent-minded human being would want--would want to have you +arrested for the monster you are! + +DAN (_quietly_): What d'you come back for? + +OLIVIA: I ... I've told you.... + +_He smiles at her slowly and shakes his head. She sits at the table +and closes her eyes._ + +I got as far as the edge of the wood. I could see the lights in the +village.... I came back. + +_She buries her head in her arms._ DAN _rises, looks at her a +moment regretfully, puts away his cigarette, and stands with both hands +over the invalid chair._ + +DAN (_casually_): She didn't keep any money anywhere else, did +she? + +OLIVIA: I've read a lot about evil---- + +DAN _realises his hands are wet with paraffin and wipes them on his +trousers._ + +DAN: Clumsy.... + +OLIVIA: I never expected to come across it in real life. + +DAN (_lightly_): You didn't ought to read so much. I never got +through a book yet.... But I'll read you all right.... (_Crossing to +her, leaning over the table, and smiling at her intently_) You +haven't had a drop to drink, and yet you feel as if you had. You never +knew there was such a secret part inside of you. All that book-learnin' +and moral-me-eye here and social-me-eye there--you took that off on the +edge of the wood same as if it was an overcoat ... and you left it +there! + +OLIVIA: I hate you. I ... hate you! + +DAN (_urgently_): And same as anybody out for the first time +without their overcoats, you feel as light as air! Same as I feel, +sometimes--only I never had no overcoat--(_Excited_) Why--this is +my big chance! You're the one I can tell about meself! Oh, I'm sick o' +hearin' how clever everybody else is--I want to tell 'em how clever +_I_ am for a change!... Money I'm goin' to have, and people doin' +what they're told, and _me_ tellin' them to do it! There was a +'oman at the Tallboys, wasn't there? She wouldn't be told, would she? +She thought she was up 'gainst a soft fellow in a uniform, didn't she? +She never knew it was _me_ she was dealin' with--(_striking his +chest in a paroxysm of elation_)--_me!_ And this old girl +treatin' me like a son 'cause I made her think she was a chronic +invalid--ha! She's been more use to me to-night (_tapping the notes +in his jacket pocket, smartly_) than she has to any other body all +her life. Stupid, that's what people are ... stupid. If those two +hadna' been stupid they might be breathin' now; you're not stupid; +that's why I'm talkin' to you. (_With exaggerated self-possession_) +You said just now murder's ordinary.... Well, it isn't ordinary at all, see? +And I'm not an ordinary chap. There's one big difference 'tween me and +other fellows that try this game. I'll _never be found out_. 'Cause I +don't care a----(_Snapping his fingers grandly_) The world's goin' to +hear from me. That's me. (_Chuckling_) You wait.... (_After a +pause_) But you can't wait, can you? + +OLIVIA: What do you mean? + +DAN: Well, when I say I'll never be found out, what I mean is, no +living soul will be able to tell any other living soul about me. +(_Beginning to roll up a sleeve, nonchalantly_) Can you think of +anybody ... who can go to-morrow ... and tell the police the fire at +Forest Corner ... wasn't an accident at all? + +OLIVIA: I--I can. + +DAN: Oh, no, you can't. + +OLIVIA: Why can't I? + +DAN: Well, I'm up against a very serious problem, I am. But the answer +to it is as simple as pie, to a feller like me, simple as pie ... +(_Rolling up the other sleeve a little way_) She isn't going to be +the only one ... found to-morrow ... in the fire at Forest Corner.... +(_After a pause_) Aren't you frightened? You ought to be! +(_Smiling_) Don't you think I'll do it? + +OLIVIA: I know you will. I just can't realise it. + +DAN: You know, when I told you all that about meself just now, I'd made +up my mind then about you. (_Moving slowly after her, round the +table, as she steps back towards the window._) That's what I am, +see? I make up me mind to do a thing, and I do it.... You remember that +first day when I come in here? I said to meself then, There's a girl +that's got her wits about her; she knows a thing or two; different from +the others. I was right, wasn't I? You----(_Stopping abruptly, and +looking round the room_) What's that light in here? + +OLIVIA: What light? + +DAN: There's somebody in this room's holdin' a flashlight. + +OLIVIA: It can't be in this room.... It must be a light in the wood. + +DAN: It can't be. + +_A flashlight crosses the window-curtains._ OLIVIA _turns and +stares at it._ + +OLIVIA: Somebody's watching the bungalow.... + +_He looks at her, as if he did not understand._ + +DAN (_fiercely_): Nobody's watching!... (_He runs to the window. +She backs into the corner of the room._) + +I'm the one that watches! They've got no call to watch me! I'll go out +and tell them that, an' all! (_Opening the curtains in a frenzy_) +I'm the one that watches! + +_The light crosses the window again. He stares, then claps his hands +over his eyes. + +(Backing to the sofa_) Behind them trees. + +(_Clutching the invalid chair_) Hundreds back of each tree.... +Thousands of eyes. The whole damn world's on my track!... (_Sitting +on the edge of the sofa, and listening_) What's that?... Like a big +wall fallin' over into the sea.... (_Closing his hands over his ears +convulsively_.) + +OLIVIA (_coming down to him_): They mustn't come in.... + +DAN (_turning to her_): Yes, but ... (_Staring_) you're +lookin' at me as if you never see'd me before.... + +OLIVIA: I never have. Nobody has. You've stopped acting at last. You're +real. Frightened. Like a child. (_Putting her arm about his +shoulders_) They mustn't come in.... + +DAN: But everything's slippin' away. From underneath our feet.... Can't +_you_ feel it? Starting slow ... and then hundreds of miles an +hour.... I'm goin' backwards!... And there's a wind in my ears, +terrible blowin' wind.... Everything's going past me, like the +telegraph-poles.... All the things I've ever seen ... faster and faster +... backwards--back to the day I was born. (_Shrieking_) I can see +it coming ... the day I was born!... (_Turning to her, simply_) +I'm goin' to die. + +_A pause. + +A knock at the front door._ + +It's getting cold. + +_Another knock, louder. She presses his head to her._ + +OLIVIA: It's all right. You won't die. I'll tell them I _made_ you +do it. I'll tell lies--I'll tell---- + +_A third and louder knock at the front door. She realises she must +answer, goes into the hall, opens the front door, and comes back, +hiding_ DAN _from view._ + +BELSIZE (_in the hall_): Good evening.... Sorry to pop back like +this---- + +_He comes into the room, followed by_ DORA _and_ MRS. +TERENCE, _both terrified_. + +(_Looking around_) Everything looks all right here. + +MRS. TERENCE: I tell you we _did_ 'ear her! Plain as plain! And +we'd gone near a quarter of a mile---- + +DORA: Plain as plain---- + +MRS. TERENCE: Made my blood run cold. "Danny!" she screamed. "Danny, +where are you?" she said. She wanted 'im back, she did, to save 'er---- + +DORA: Because she was bein' murdered. I knew it! I'd never a' run like +that if I 'adn't 'eard---- + +BELSIZE: We'll soon find out who's right.... Now then----(_As_ +OLIVIA _steps aside behind the sofa_) Hello, Dan! + +DAN (_quietly, rising and standing by the fireplace_): Hello. + +BELSIZE (_standing behind the invalid chair_): Second time to-day, +eh?... + +DAN: That's right. + +BELSIZE: How's the old lady? + +DAN (_after a pause_): Not so bad, thanks, inspector! Gone to bed, +and says she didn't want to be disturbed---- + +BELSIZE: Smell of paraffin ... + +DAN (_with a last desperate attempt at bluster_): You know what +she's like, inspector, a bit nervy these days-- + +_As_ BELSIZE _goes to the bedroom and flashes a light into +it_. + +I'd no sooner got round the corner she screamed for me--"Danny, Danny, +Danny!" she was screamin'--"Danny," she calls me, a pet name for Dan, +that is-- + +_As_ BELSIZE _goes into the sun-room. + +(Rambling on mechanically_) I told her so then. I said, "It's +dangerous, that's what it is, havin' so much paraffin in the house." +That paraffin--she shouldn't ha' so much paraffin in the house-- + +_His voice trails away. Silence._ BELSIZE _comes back, his face +intent, one hand in coat pocket. A pause._ + +BELSIZE (_to_ OLIVIA): What are you doing here? + +OLIVIA: I'm concerned in-- + +DAN (_loudly, decisively, silencing her_): It's all right. +(_Crossing to_ BELSIZE _and swaggering desperately, in front of +the women_) I'm the feller. Anything I'm concerned in, I run all by +myself. If there's going to be any putting me on a public platform to +answer any questions, I'm going to do it by myself ... (_looking +at_ OLIVIA) ... or not at all. I'll manage myself all right-- + +BELSIZE: I get you. Like a bit of limelight, eh? + +DAN (_smiling_): Well ... + +BELSIZE (_as if humouring him_): Let's have a look at your hands, +old boy, will you? + +_With an amused look at_ OLIVIA, DAN _holds out his hands. +Without warning,_ BELSIZE _claps a pair of handcuffs over his +wrists,_ DAN _stares at them a moment, then sits on the sofa and +starts to pull at them furiously over his knee. He beats at them +wildly, moaning and crying like an animal. He subsides gradually, looks +at the others and rises._ + +DAN (_muttering, holding his knee_): Hurt meself.... + +BELSIZE: That's better.... Better come along quietly.... + +_He goes up towards the hall._ DAN _follows him, and takes his +hat from the occasional table. As puts it on he catches sight of his +face in the mirror. + +(To the others, crisply, during this_) I've a couple of men outside. +I'll send 'em in. See that nothing's disturbed.... Coming, old chap? + +DORA: What's 'e doin'? + +MRS. TERENCE: He's lookin' at himself in the glass.... + +_A pause._ + +DAN (_speaking to the mirror_): This is the real thing, my boy. +Actin'.... That's what she said, wasn't it? She was right, you know ... +I've been playin' up to you, haven't I? I showed you a trick or two, +didn't I?... But this is the real thing. (_Swaying_) Got a +cigarette?... (_Seeing_ OLIVIA) You're not goin' to believe what +she said? About helpin' me? + +BELSIZE (_humouring him_): No. (_Putting a cigarette between_ +DAN'S _lips and lighting it_) Plenty of women get a bit hysterical +about a lad in your position. You'll find 'em queuing up all right when +the time comes. Proposals of marriage by the score. + +DAN (_pleased_): Will they? + +BELSIZE: Come along---- + +DAN _turns to follow him._ DORA _is in the way._ + +DAN: Oh, yes ... I forgot about you.... (_smiling with a curious +detached sadness_) Poor little fellow. Poor little chap.... +(_Looking round_) You know, I'd like somethin' now I never wanted +before. A long walk, all by meself. And just when I can't have it. +(_Laughing_) That's contrary, isn't it? + +BELSIZE (_sternly_): Coming? + +DAN (_looking at_ OLIVIA): Just commin' (_He goes to_ OLIVIA, +_takes out his cigarette, puts his manacled arms round her, and +kisses her suddenly and violently on the mouth. He releases her with an +air of bravado, puts back his cigarette, and looks at her_) Well, +I'm goin' to be hanged in the end.... But they'll get their money's +worth at the trial. You wait! + +_He smiles, and raises his hand to his hat-brim with the old familiar +jaunty gesture of farewell. He walks past_ BELSIZE _and out +through the front door._ BELSIZE _follows him. The bang of the +front door._ OLIVIA _falls to the sofa. + +The sound of_ DORA'S _sobbing._ + +CURTAIN + + + + NIGHT MUST FALL was first presented in London by J. P. Mitchelhill at +the Duchess Theatre on May 31st, 1935, with the following cast: + +_The Lord Chief Justice_ ERIC STANLEY + +_Mrs. Bramson_ MAY WHITTY + +_Olivia Grayne_ ANGELA BADDELEY + +_Hubert Laurie_ BASIL RADFORD + +_Nurse Libby_ DOROTHY LANGLEY + +_Mrs. Terence_ KATHLEEN HARRISON + +_Dora Parkoe_ BETTY JARDINE + +_Inspector Belsize_ MATTHEW BOULTON + +_Dan_ EMLYN WILLIAMS + +The play produced by MILES MALLESON. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Night Must Fall, by Emlyn Williams + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NIGHT MUST FALL *** + +***** This file should be named 7765.txt or 7765.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/7/6/7765/ + +Produced by Georgia Young, Tiffany Vergon, Charles +Aldarondo, Charles Franks, and the Online Distributed +Proofreaders Team + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Night Must Fall + +Author: Williams, Emlyn + +Release Date: March, 2005 [EBook #7765] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 15, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NIGHT MUST FALL *** + + + + +Produced by Georgia Young, Tiffany Vergon, Charles Aldarondo, +Charles Franks, and the Online Distributed Proofreaders Team + + + + +EMLYN WILLIAMS + +NIGHT MUST FALL + +A PLAY IN THREE ACTS + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +THE PERFORMING RIGHTS OF THIS PLAY ARE FULLY PROTECTED, AND PERMISSION +TO PERFORM IT, WHETHER BY AMATEURS OR PROFESSIONALS, MUST BE GAINED IN +ADVANCE FROM THE AUTHOR'S SOLE AGENT, WALTER PEACOCK, 60 HAYMARKET, +LONDON, S.W. I. + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BY THE VAN REES PRESS + +EH + +_To_ M. W. + +THE CHARACTERS + +(_in the order of their appearance_) + +THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE +MRS. BRAMSON +OLIVIA GRAYNE Her niece +HUBERT LAURIE +NURSE LIBBY +MRS. TERENCE Mrs. Bramson's cook +DORA PARKOE Her maid +INSPECTOR BELSIZE +DAN + +BEFORE THE PLAY + +The Court of Criminal Appeal + +_The action of the play takes place in the sitting-room of Forest +Corner, Mrs. Bramson's bungalow in Essex. + +The time is the present_. + +ACT I: A morning in October. + +ACT II SCENE I: An afternoon twelve days later. SCENE II: Late +afternoon, two days later. + +ACT III SCENE I: Half an hour later. Nightfall. SCENE II: Half an hour +later. + + + +BEFORE THE PLAY + +_The orchestra plays light tunes until the house lights are turned +down; the curtain rises in darkness, accompanied by solemn music. A +small light grows in the middle of the stage, and shows the_ LORD +CHIEF JUSTICE _sitting in judgment, wearing wig and red robes of +office, in the Court of Criminal Appeal. His voice, cold and +disapproving, gradually swells up with the light as he reaches his +peroration_. + +LORD CHIEF JUSTICE: ... and there is no need to recapitulate here the +arguments for and against this point of law, which we heard in the long +and extremely fair summing up at the trial of the appellant at the +Central Criminal Court. The case was clearly put to the jury; and it is +against sentence of death for these two murders that the prisoner now +appeals. Which means that the last stage of this important and +extremely horrible case has now been reached. On a later page in the +summing up, the learned judge said this ... (_turning over +papers_) ... "This case has, through the demeanour of the prisoner +in the witness-box, obtained the most widespread and scandalous +publicity, which I would beg you most earnestly, members of the jury, +to forget." I cannot help thinking that the deplorable atmosphere of +sentimental melodrama which has pervaded this trial has made the +_theatre_ a more fitting background for it than a court of law; +but we are in a court of law, nevertheless, and the facts have been +placed before the court. A remarkable and in my opinion praiseworthy +feature of the case has been that the sanity of the prisoner has never +been called into question; and, like the learned judge, the Court must +dismiss as mischievous pretence the attitude of this young man who +stands convicted of two brutal murders in cold blood. This case has, +from beginning to end, exhibited no feature calling for sympathy; the +evidence has on every point been conclusive, and on this evidence the +jury have convicted the appellant. In the opinion of the Court there is +no reason to interfere with that conviction, and this appeal must be +dismissed. + +_The chords of solemn music are heard again, and the stage gradually +darkens. A few seconds later the music merges into the sound of church +bells playing far away, and the lights come up on_. + + + +ACT I + +_The sitting-room of Forest Corner_, MRS. BRAMSON'S _bungalow in +a forest in Essex, A fine morning in October. + +Centre back, a small hall; in its left side the front door of the house +(throughout the play, "left" and "right" refer to the audience's left +and right). Thick plush curtains can be drawn across the entrance to +the hall; they are open at the moment. Windows, one on each side of the +hall, with window-seats and net curtains beyond which can be glimpsed +the pine-trees of the forest. In the left wall, upstage, a door leading +to the kitchen. In the left wall, downstage, the fireplace; above it, a +cretonne-covered sofa, next to a very solid cupboard built into the +wall; below it a cane armchair. In the right wall, upstage, a door +leading to _MRS. BRAMSON'S _bedroom. In the right wall, downstage, +wide-open paned doors leading to the sun-room. Right downstage, next +the sun-room, a large dining-table with four straight chairs round it. +Between the bedroom and the sun-room, a desk with books on it, a +cupboard below it, and a hanging mirror on the wall above. Above the +bedroom, a corner medicine cupboard. Between the hall and the right +window, an occasional table. + +The bungalow is tawdry but cheerful; it is built entirely of wood, with +an oil lamp fixed in the wall over the occasional table. The room is +comfortably furnished, though in fussy and eccentric Victorian taste; +stuffed birds, Highland cattle in oils, antimacassars, and wax fruit +are unobtrusively in evidence. On the mantelpiece, an ornate chiming +clock. The remains of breakfast on a tray on the table_. + +MRS. BRAMSON _is sitting in a wheeled chair in the centre of the +room. She is a fussy, discontented, common woman of fifty-five, old- +fashioned both in clothes and coiffure_; NURSE LIBBY, _a kindly, +matter-of-fact young north-country woman in district nurse's uniform, +is sitting on the sofa, massaging one of her hands_. OLIVIA GRAYNE +_sits on the old woman's right; holding a book; she is a subdued +young woman of twenty-eight, her hair tied severely in a knot, wearing +horn-rimmed spectacles; there is nothing in any way remarkable about +her at the moment_. HUBERT LAURIE _is sitting in the armchair, +scanning the "Daily Telegraph." He is thirty-five, moustached, hearty, +and pompous, wearing plus fours and smoking a pipe. + +A pause. The church bells die away_. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): Go on. + +OLIVIA (_reading_): "... Lady Isabel humbly crossed her attenuated +hands upon her chest. 'I am on my way to God,' she whispered, 'to +answer for all my sins and sorrows.' 'Child,' said Miss Carlyle, 'had +_I_ anything to do with sending you from ...' (_turning over_) +'... East Lynne?' Lady Isabel shook her head and cast down +her gaze." + +MRS. BRAMSON (_aggressively_): Now that's what I call a beautiful +character. + +NURSE: Very pretty. But the poor thing'd have felt that much better +tucked up in 'ospital instead of lying about her own home gassing her +'ead off---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Sh! + +NURSE: Sorry. + +OLIVIA (_reading_): "'Thank God,' inwardly breathed Miss Corny.... +'Forgive me,' she said loudly and in agitation. 'I want to see +Archibald,' whispered Lady Isabel." + +MRS. BRAMSON: You don't see many books like _East Lynne_ about +nowadays. + +HUBERT: No, you don't. + +OLIVIA (_reading_): "'I want to see Archibald,' whispered Lady +Isabel. 'I have prayed Joyce to bring him to me, and she will not----'" + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): Olivia! + +OLIVIA: Yes, auntie? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_craftily_): You're not skipping, are you? + +OLIVIA: Am I? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You've missed out about Lady Isabel taking up her cross +and the weight of it killing her. I may be a fool, but I do know +_East Lynne_. + +OLIVIA: Perhaps there were two pages stuck together. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Very convenient when you want your walk, eh? Yes, I +_am_ a fool, I suppose, as well as an invalid. + +OLIVIA: But I thought you were so much better---- + +NURSE: You'd two helpings of bacon at breakfast, remember---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Doctor's orders. You know every mouthful's agony to me. + +HUBERT (_deep in his paper_): There's a man here in Weston-super- +Mare who stood on his head for twenty minutes for a bet, and he hasn't +come to yet. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): I thought this morning I'd never be able +to face the day. + +HUBERT: But last night when you opened the port---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: I've had a relapse since then. My heart's going like +anything. Give me a chocolate. + +OLIVIA _rises and fetches her a chocolate from a large box on the +table._ + +NURSE: How does it feel? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Nasty. (_Munching her chocolate._) I _know_ +it's neuritis. + +NURSE: You know, Mrs. Bramson, what you want isn't massage at all, only +exercise. Your body---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Don't you dictate to me about my body. Nobody here +understands my body or anything else about me. As for sympathy, I've +forgotten the meaning of the word. (_To_ OLIVIA) What's the matter +with your face? + +OLIVIA (_startled_): I--I really don't know. + +MRS. BRAMSON: It's as long as my arm. + +OLIVIA (_drily_): I'm afraid it's made like that. + +_She crosses the room, and comes back again._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: What are you walking up and down for? What's the matter +with you? Aren't you happy here? + +OLIVIA: It's a bit lonely, but I'll get used to it. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Lonely? All these lovely woods? What _are_ you +talking about? Don't you like nature? + +NURSE: Will that be all for to-day? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I suppose it'll have to be. + +NURSE (_rising and taking her bag from the sofa_): Well, I've that +confined lady still waiting in Shepperley. (_Going into the hall_) +Toodle-oo! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Mind you call again Wednesday. In case my neuritis sets +in again. + +NURSE (_turning in the hall_): I will that. And if paralysis pops +up, let me know. Toodle-oo! + +_She marches cheerily out of the front door._ + +MRS. BRAMSON _cannot make up her mind if the last remark is sarcastic +or not. She concentrates on_ OLIVIA. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You know, you mustn't think just because this house is +lonely you're going to get a rise in salary. Oh, no.... I expect you've +an idea I'm worth a good bit of money, haven't you?... It isn't my +money you're after, is it? + +OLIVIA (_setting chairs to rights round the table_): I'm sorry, +but my sense of humour can't stand the strain. I'll have to go. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Can you afford to go? + +OLIVIA (_after a pause, controlling herself_): You know I can't. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Then don't talk such nonsense. Clear the breakfast +things. + +OLIVIA _hesitates, then crosses to the kitchen door._ + +(_Muttering_): Sense of humour indeed, never heard of such a +thing.... + +OLIVIA (_at the door_): Mrs. Terence, will you clear away? + +_She goes to the left window, and looks out._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: You wait, my girl. Pride comes before a fall. Won't catch +a husband with your nose in the air, you know. + +OLIVIA: I don't want a husband. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Don't like men, I suppose? Never heard of them, I +suppose? Don't believe you. See? + +OLIVIA (_resigned_): I see. It's going to be a fine day. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_taking up "East Lynne" from the table_): It'll +cloud over, I expect. + +OLIVIA: I don't think so. The trees look beautiful with the sun on +them. Everything looks so clean. (_Lifting up three books from the +window seat_) Shall I pack the other half of Mrs. Henry Wood? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Mrs. Henry Wood? Who's Mrs. Henry Wood? Pack the other +half of Mrs. Henry Wood? What are you talking about? + +OLIVIA: She wrote your favourite book--_East Lynne_. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_looking at her book_): Oh ... (_Picking a paper +out of it_.) What's this? (_Reading ponderously_) A sonnet. +"The flame of passion is not red but white, not quick but slow--" + +OLIVIA (_going to her and snatching it from her with a cry_): +Don't! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Writing poetry! That's a hobby and a half, I must say! +"Flame of passion ..." _well!_ + +OLIVIA (_crossing to the fireplace_): It's only a silly poem I +amused myself with at college. It's not meant for anybody but me. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You're a dark horse, you are. + +MRS. TERENCE _enters from the kitchen. She is the cook, middle-aged, +Cockney, and fearless. She carries a bunch of roses_. + +MRS. TERENCE (_grimly_): Would you be wanting anything? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes. Clear away. + +MRS. TERENCE: That's Dora's job. Where's Dora? + +OLIVIA: She's gone into the clearing for some firewood. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You can't expect the girl to gather firewood with one +hand and clear breakfast with the other. Clear away. + +MRS. TERENCE (_crossing to the table, under her breath_): All +right, you sour-faced old hag. + +HUBERT _drops his pipe_. MRS. BRAMSON _winces_ and looks +away. MRS. TERENCE clears the table. + +HUBERT (_to_ OLIVIA): What--what was that she said? + +MRS. TERENCE: She 'eard. And then she 'as to save 'er face and pretend +she 'asn't. She knows nobody but me'd stay with 'er a day if I went. + +MRS. BRAMSON: She oughtn't to talk to me like that. I know she steals +my sugar. + +MRS. TERENCE: That's a living lie. (_Going round to her_) Here are +your roses. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You've cut them too young. I knew you would. + +MRS. TERENCE (_taking up her tray and starting for the kitchen_): +Then you come out and pick the ones you want, and you'll only 'ave +yourself to blame. + +MRS. BRAMSON: That's a nice way to talk to an invalid. + +MRS. TERENCE: If you're an invalid, I'm the Prince of Wales. + +_She goes back into the kitchen_. + +OLIVIA: Would you like me to read some more? + +BRAMSON: No. I'm upset for the day now. I'd better see she does pick +the right roses. (_Wheeling herself, muttering_) That woman's a +menace. Good mind to bring an action against her. She ought to be put +away.... (_Shouting_) Wait for me, wait for me! + +_Her voice dies away in the kitchen. The kitchen door closes_. +HUBERT _and_ OLIVIA _are alone_. + +OLIVIA: That's the fifth action she's threatened to bring this week. +(_She crosses to the right window._) + +HUBERT: She's a good one to talk about putting away. Crikey! She'll be +found murdered one of these days.... (_Suddenly reading from his +paper_) "In India a population of three and a half hundred million +is loyal to Britain; now----" + +OLIVIA: Oh, Hubert! (_Good humouredly_) I thought I'd cured you of +that. + +HUBERT: Sorry. + +OLIVIA: You've only had two weeks of her. I've had six. + +_A pause. She sighs restlessly._ + +HUBERT: Fed up? + +OLIVIA: It's such a very inadequate expression, don't you think?... +(_After a pause_) How bright the sun is to-day.... + +_She is pensive, far-away, smiling._ + +HUBERT: A penny for 'em. + +OLIVIA: I was just thinking ... I often wonder on a very fine morning +what it'll be like ... for night to come. And I never can. And yet it's +got to.... (_Looking at his perplexed face_) It is silly, isn't +it? + +_DORA comes in from the kitchen with a duster and crosses towards the +bedroom. She is a pretty, stupid, and rather sluttish country girl of +twenty, wearing a maid's uniform. She looks depressed_. + +Who are those men, Dora? + +DORA: What men, miss? + +OLIVIA: Over there, behind the clearing. + +DORA: Oh.... (_Peering past her_) Oh. 'Adn't seen them. What are +they doing poking about in that bush? + +OLIVIA (_absently_): I don't know. I saw them yesterday too, +farther down the woods. + +DORA (_lamely_): I expect they're looking for something. + +_She goes into the bedroom._ + +HUBERT: She looks a bit off-colour, doesn't she? + +OLIVIA: The atmosphere must be getting her down too. + +HUBERT: I'm wondering if I'm going to be able to stand it myself. +Coming over here every day for another week. + +OLIVIA (_smiling_): There's nothing to prevent you staying at +_home_ every day for another week ... is there? + +HUBERT (_still apparently reading his paper_): Oh, yes, there is. +What d'you think I invite myself to lunch every day for? You don't +think it's the old geyser, do you? + +OLIVIA (_smiling_): No. + +_She comes down to the table._ + +HUBERT: Don't want to sound rude, et cetera, but women don't get men +proposing to them every day, you know ... (_Turning over a page_) +Gosh, what a wizard machine-- + +OLIVIA (_sitting at the left of the table_): I can't think +_why_ you want to marry me, as a matter of fact. It isn't the same +as if I were very pretty, or something. + +HUBERT: You do say some jolly rum things, Olivia, upon my soul. + +OLIVIA: I'll tell _you_ why, then, if it makes you feel any +better. You're cautious; and you want to marry me because I'm quiet. +I'd make you a steady wife, and run a home for you. + +HUBERT: There's nothing to be ashamed of in being steady. I'm steady +myself. + +OLIVIA: I know you are. HUBERT: Then why aren't you keen? + +OLIVIA (_after a pause, tolerant but weary_): Because you're an +unmitigated bore. + +HUBERT: A bore? (_Horrified_) _Me_, a bore? Upon my word, +Olivia, I think you're a bit eccentric, I do really. Sorry to be rude, +and all that, but that's put the kybosh on it! People could call me a +thing or two, but I've never been called a bore! + +OLIVIA: Bores never are. People are too bored with them to call them +anything. + +HUBERT: I suppose you'd be more likely to say "Yes" if I were an +unmitigated bounder? + +OLIVIA (_with a laugh_): Oh, don't be silly.... + +HUBERT (_going to her_): You're a rum girl, Olivia, upon my soul +you are. P'raps that's why I think you're so jolly attractive. Like a +mouse one minute, and then this straight-from-the-shoulder business.... +What _is_ a sonnet? + +OLIVIA: It's a poem of fourteen lines. + +HUBERT: Oh, yes, Shakespeare.... Never knew you did a spot of rhyming, +Olivia! Now that's what I mean about you.... We'll have to start +calling you Elizabeth Bronte! + +_She turns away. He studies her_. + +You _are_ bored, aren't you? + +_He walks to the sun-room. She rouses herself and turns to him +impetuously_. + +OLIVIA: I'm being silly, I know--of course I _ought_ to get +married, and _of course_ this is a wonderful chance, and--HUBERT +(_moving to her_): Good egg! Then you will? OLIVIA (_stalling_): +Give me a--another week or two--will you? + +HUBERT: Oh. My holiday's up on the twenty-seventh. + +OLIVIA: I know I'm being tiresome, but-- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_in the kitchen_): The most disgraceful thing I've +ever heard-- + +HUBERT: She's coming back.... + +OLIVIA _rises and goes to the right window_. HUBERT _hurries +into the sun-room._ MRS. BRAMSON _is wheeled back from the kitchen +by_ MRS. TERENCE, _to the centre of the room. She_ (MRS. BRAMSON) +_has found the pretext for the scene she has been longing to make since +she got up this morning._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Fetch that girl here. This minute. + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, leave the child alone. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Leave her alone, the little sneak-thief? Fetch her here. + +MRS. TERENCE (_at the top of her voice_): Dora! (_Opening the +front door and calling into the trees_) Dora! + +OLIVIA: What's Dora done now? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Broken three of my Crown Derby, that's all. Thought if +she planted them in the rose-bed I wouldn't be well enough ever to see +them, I suppose. Well, I _have_ seen. + +MRS. TERENCE (_crossing and calling to the bedroom_): You're +wanted. + +DORA'S VOICE: What for? + +MRS. TERENCE: She wants to kiss you good morning, what d'you think.... + +_She collects the table-cloth, fetches a vase from the mantelpiece, +and goes into the kitchen._ DORA _enters gingerly from the +bedroom, carrying a cup and saucer on a tray._ + +DORA: Did you want me, mum? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Crown Derby to you, my girl. + +DORA (_uncertain_): Beg pardon, mum? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I suppose you think that china came from Marks and +Spencer? + +DORA: Oh.... (_Snivelling_) Oh ... oh ... + +OLIVIA (_coming between_ DORA _and_ MRS. BRAMSON): Come +along, Dora, it's not as bad as all that. + +DORA: Oh, yes, it is.... Oh.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: You can leave, that's all. You can leave. + +_Appalled,_ DORA _drops the tray and breaks the saucer._ + +That settles it. Now you'll _have_ to leave. + +DORA (_with a cry_): Oh, please I ... (_Kneeling, and collecting +broken china_) Oh, ma'am--I'm not meself, you see.... (_Snivelling_) +I'm in a terrible trouble.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Have you been stealing? + +DORA (_shocked_): Oh, no! + +OLIVIA (_after a pause_): Are you going to have a baby? + +_After a pause, DORA nods._ + +DORA (_putting the china in her apron_): The idea of me +stealing.... I do go to Sunday school, anyways.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: So that's the game. Wouldn't think butter would melt in +her mouth.... You'll have to go, of course; I can't have that sort of +thing in this house--and stop squeaking! You'll bring my heart on +again. It's all this modern life. I've always said so. All these films +and rubbish. + +OLIVIA: My dear auntie, you can't have a baby by just sitting in the +pictures. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Go away, and don't interfere. + +OLIVIA _goes to the left window_. DORA _rises. + +(Triumphantly_) So you're going to have a child. When? + +DORA (_sniffling_): Last August Bank Holiday.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: What?... Oh! + +DORA: I 'aven't got a penny only what I earn--and if I lose my job +'ere-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: He'll have to marry you. + +DORA: Oh, I don't think he's keen.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'll _make_ him keen. Who is the gentleman? + +DORA: A boy I know; Dan his name is--'leas' 'e's not a gentleman. He's +a page-boy at the Tallboys. + +MRS. BRAMSON: The Tallboys? D'you mean that new-fangled place all +awnings and loud speakers and things? + +DORA: That's right. On the by-pass. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Just the nice ripe sort of place for mischief, it always +looked to me. All those lanterns.... What's his character, the good- +for-nothing scoundrel? + +DORA: Oh, he's nice, really. He done the wrong thing by me, but he's +all right, if you know what I mean.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, I don't. Where does he come from? + +DORA: He's sort of Welsh, I think. 'E's been to sea, too. He's funny, +of course. Ever so open. Baby-face they call him. Though I never seem +to get 'old of what 'e's thinking, somehow-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'll get hold of what he's thinking, all right. I've had +my knife into that sort ever since I was a girl. + +DORA: Oh, mum, if I got him to let you speak to him--d'you think I +could stay on? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_after a pause): If_ he marries you at once. + +DORA: Shall I--(_Eagerly_) As a matter of fact, ma'am, he's gone +on a message on his bicycle to Payley Hill this morning, and he said he +might pop in to see me on the way back-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: That's right; nothing like visitors to brighten your +mornings, eh? I'll deal with him. + +DORA: Yes.... (_Going, and turning at the kitchen door--in impulsive +relief_) Oh, ma'am-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: And I'll stop the Crown Derby out of your wages. + +DORA (_crestfallen_): Oh! + +MRS. BRAMSON: What were you going to say? + +DORA: Well, ma'am, I _was_ going to say I don't know how to thank +you for your generosity.... + +_She goes into the kitchen. The clock chimes_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Olivia! + +OLIVIA: Yes, auntie? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You've forgotten again. Medicine's overdue. Most +important. + +OLIVIA _crosses to the medicine cupboard and fetches the +medicine._ MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen with a vase of +flowers and barges between the sofa and the wheelchair_. + +MRS. TERENCE (_muttering_): All this furniture ... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to her_): Did _you_ know she's having a baby? + +MRS. TERENCE (_coldly_): She did mention it in conversation. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Playing with fire, that's the game nowadays. + +MRS. TERENCE (_arranging flowers as_ OLIVIA _ gives_ MRS. +BRAMSON _her medicine_): Playing with fiddlesticks. We're only +young once; that 'ot summer too. She's been a fool, but she's no +criminal. And, talking of criminals, there's a p'liceman at the kitchen +door. + +MRS. BRAMSON: A what? + +MRS. TERENCE: A p'liceman. A bobby. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What does he want? + +MRS. TERENCE: Better ask 'im. I know _my_ conscience is clear; I +don't know about other people's. + +MRS. BRAMSON: But I've never had a policeman coming to see me before! + +DORA _runs in from the kitchen_. + +DORA (_terrified_): There's a man there! From the p'lice! 'E said +something about the Tallboys! 'E--'e 'asn't come about me, 'as 'e? + +MRS. TERENCE: Of course he 'asn't-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: He may have. + +MRS. TERENCE: Don't frighten the girl; she's simple enough now. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_); It's against the law, what she's done, +isn't it? (_To_ DORA) Go back in there till he sends for you. + +DORA _creeps back into the kitchen_. + +OLIVIA (_at the left window_): He isn't a policeman, as a matter +of fact. He must be a plain-clothes man. + +MRS. TERENCE (_sardonically_): Scotland Yard, I should think. + +_BELSIZE is seen outside, crossing the left window to the front +door._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: That place in those detective books? Don't be so silly. + +MRS. TERENCE: He says he wants to see you very particular-- + +_A sharp rat-tat at the front door. + +(Going to the hall_) On a very particular matter.... (_Turning +on_ MRS. BRAMSON) And don't you start callin' _me_ silly! + +_Going to the front door, and opening it._ + +This way, sir.... + +BELSIZE _enters, followed by_ MRS. TERENCE. _He is an entirely +inconspicuous man of fifty, dressed in tweeds: his suavity hides any +amount of strength._ + +BELSIZE: Mrs. Bramson? I'm sorry to break in on you like this. My card .... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_taking it, sarcastically_): I suppose you're going +to tell me you're from Scotland Ya--(_She sees the name on the +card._) + +BELSIZE: I see you've all your wits about you! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh. (_Reading incredulously_) Criminal Investigation +Department! + +BELSIZE (_smiling_): A purely informal visit, I assure you. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I don't like having people in my house that I don't know. + +BELSIZE (_the velvet glove_): I'm afraid the law sometimes makes +it necessary. + +MRS. TERENCE _gives him a chair next the table. He sits_. MRS. +TERENCE _stands behind the table._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to her_): You can go. + +MRS. TERENCE: I don't want to go. I might 'ave to be arrested for +stealing sugar. + +BELSIZE: Sugar?... As a matter of fact, you might be useful. Any of you +may be useful. Mind my pipe? + +_MRS. BRAMSON blows in disgust and waves her hand before her +face._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Is it about my maid having an illegitimate child? + +BELSIZE: I beg your pardon?... Oh no! That sort of thing's hardly in my +line, thank God ... Lonely spot ... (_To MRS. TERENCE_) Long way +for you to walk every day, isn't it? + +MRS. TERENCE: I don't walk. I cycle. + +BELSIZE: Oh. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter? + +BELSIZE: I just thought if she walked she might use some of the paths, +and have seen--something. + +(Note: The following pair of lines are spoken simultaneously.) + +MRS. BRAMSON: Something of what? + +MRS. TERENCE: Something? + +BELSIZE: I'll tell you. I-- + +_A piano is heard in the sun-room, playing the "Merry Widow" waltz. + +(Casually_) Other people in the house? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_calling shrilly_): Mr. Laurie! + +_The piano stops._ + +HUBERT'S VOICE (_as the piano stops, in the sun-room_): Yes? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to OLIVIA, sourly_): Did you ask him to play the +piano? + +_HUBERT comes back from the sun-room._ + +HUBERT (_breezily_): Hello, house on fire or something? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Very nearly. This is Mr.--er--Bel-- + +BELSIZE: Belsize. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_drily_): Of Scotland Yard. + +HUBERT: Oh.... (_Apprehensive_) It isn't about my car, is it? + +BELSIZE: No. + +HUBERT: Oh. (_Shaking hands affably_) How do you do? + +BELSIZE: How do you do, sir.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: He's a friend of Miss Grayne's here. Keeps calling. + +BELSIZE: Been calling long? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Every day for two weeks. Just before lunch. + +HUBERT: Well-- + +OLIVIA (_sitting on the sofa_): Perhaps I'd better introduce +myself. I'm Olivia Grayne, Mrs. Bramson's niece. I work for her. + +BELSIZE: Oh, I see. Thanks. Well now ... + +HUBERT (_sitting at the table, effusively_): I know a chap on the +Stock Exchange who was taken last year and shown over the Black Museum +at Scotland Yard. + +BELSIZE (_politely_): Really-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: And what d'you expect the policeman to do about it? + +HUBERT: Well, it was very interesting, he said. Bit ghoulish, of +course-- + +BELSIZE: I expect so.... (_Getting down to business_) Now I wonder +if any of you've seen anything in the least out of the ordinary round +here lately? Anybody called--anybody strange wandering about in the +woods--overheard anything? + +_They look at one another._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: The only visitor's been the doctor--and the district +nurse. + +MRS. TERENCE: Been ever so gay. + +HUBERT: As a matter of fact, funny thing did happen to me. Tuesday +afternoon it was, I remember now. + +BELSIZE: Oh? + +HUBERT (_graphically_): I was walking back to my cottage from +golf, and I heard something moving stealthily behind a tree, or a bush, +or something. + +BELSIZE (_interested_): Oh, yes? + +HUBERT: Turned out to be a squirrel. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_in disgust_): Oh!... + +HUBERT: No bigger than my hand! Funny thing to happen, I thought. + +BELSIZE: Very funny. Anything else? + +HUBERT: Not a thing. By Jove, fancy walking in the woods and stumbling +over a dead body! Most embarrassing! + +MRS. TERENCE: I've stumbled over bodies in them woods afore now. But +they wasn't dead. Oh, no. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Say what you know, and don't talk so much. + +MRS. TERENCE: Well, I've told 'im all I've seen. A bit o' love now and +again. Though 'ow they make do with all them pine-needles beats me. + +BELSIZE: Anything else? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Miss Grayne's always moping round the woods. Perhaps +_she_ can tell you something. + +OLIVIA: I haven't seen anything, I'm afraid.... Oh--I saw some men +beating the undergrowth-- + +BELSIZE: Yes, I'm coming to that. But no tramps, for instance? + +OLIVIA: N-no, I don't think so. + +HUBERT: "Always carry a stick's" my motto. I'd like to see a tramp try +anything on with me. Ah-ha! Swish! + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's all the fuss about? Has there been a robbery or +something? + +BELSIZE: There's a lady missing. + +MRS. TERENCE: Where from? + +BELSIZE: The Tallboys. + +MRS. BRAMSON: That Tallboys again-- + +BELSIZE: A Mrs. Chalfont. + +MRS. TERENCE: Chalfont? Oh, yes! Dyed platinum blonde--widow of a +colonel, so she says, livin' alone, so she says, always wearin' them +faldalaldy openwork stockings. Fond of a drop too. That's 'er. + +HUBERT: Why, d'you know her? + +MRS. TERENCE: Never set eyes on 'er. But you know how people talk. +Partial to that there, too, I'm told. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's that there? + +MRS. TERENCE: Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies. + +BELSIZE (_quickly_): Well, anyway ... Mrs. Chalfont left the +Tallboys last Friday afternoon, without a hat, went for a walk through +the woods in this direction, and has never been seen since. + +_He makes his effect_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I expect she was so drunk she fell flat and never came +to. + +BELSIZE: We've had the woods pretty well thrashed. (_To OLIVIA_) +Those would be the men you saw. Now she was ... HUBERT (_taking the +floor_): She may have had a brain-storm, you know, and taken a train +somewhere. That's not uncommon, you know, among people of her sort. +(_Airing knowledge_) And if what we gather from our friend here's +true--and she's both a dipsomaniac _and_ a nymphomaniac-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Hark at the walking dictionary! + +BELSIZE: We found her bag in her room; and maniacs can't get far +without cash ... however dipso or nympho they may be.... + +HUBERT: Oh. + +BELSIZE: She was a very flashy type of wo--she _is_ a flashy type, +I should say. At least I hope I should say ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: What d'you mean? Why d'you hope? + +BELSIZE: Well ... + +OLIVIA: You don't mean she may be ... she mayn't be alive? + +BELSIZE: It's possible. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You'll be saying she's been murdered next! + +BELSIZE: That's been known. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Lot of stuff and nonsense. From a policeman too. +Anybody'd think you'd been brought up on penny dreadfuls. + +OLIVIA _turns and goes to the window._ + +BELSIZE (_to_ MRS. BRAMSON): Did you see about the fellow being +hanged for the Ipswich murder? In last night's papers? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I've lived long enough not to believe the papers. + +BELSIZE: They occasionally print facts. And murder's occasionally a +fact. + +HUBERT: Everybody likes a good murder, as the saying goes! Remember +those trials in the _Evening Standard_ last year? Jolly interesting. +I followed-- + +BELSIZE (_rising_): I'd be very grateful if you'd all keep your +eyes and ears open, just in case ... (_Shaking hands_) Good +morning ... good morning ... good morning, Mrs. Bramson. I must +apologise again for intruding-- + +_He turns to_ OLIVIA, _who is still looking out of the +window._ + +Good morning, Miss ... er ... + +_A pause._ + +OLIVIA (_starting_): I'm so sorry. + +BELSIZE: Had you remembered something? OLIVIA: Oh, no.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: What were you thinking, then? + +OLIVIA: Only how ... strange it is. + +BELSIZE: What? + +OLIVIA: Well, here we all are, perfectly ordinary English people. We +woke up ... no, it's silly. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Of course it's silly. + +BELSIZE (_giving_ MRS. BRAMSON _an impatient look_): No, go +on. OLIVIA: Well, we woke up this morning, thinking, "Here's another +day." We got up, looked at the weather, and talked; and here we all +are, still talking.... And all that time---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: My dear girl, who are you to expect a policeman---- + +BELSIZE (_quelling her sternly_): If you please! I want to hear +what she's got to say. (_To_ OLIVIA) Well? + +OLIVIA: All that time ... there may be something ... lying in the +woods. Hidden under a bush, with two feet just showing. Perhaps one +high heel catching the sunlight, with a bird perched on the end of it; +and the other--a stockinged foot, with blood ... that's dried into the +openwork stocking. And there's a man walking about somewhere, and +talking, like us; and he woke up this morning, and looked at the +weather. ... And he killed her.... (_Smiling, looking out of the +window_) The cat doesn't believe a word of it, anyhow. It's just +walking away. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well! + +MRS. TERENCE: Ooh, Miss Grayne, you give me the creeps! I'm glad it is +morning, that's all I can say.... + +BELSIZE: I don't think the lady can quite describe _herself_ as +ordinary, after that little flight of fancy! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, that's nothing; she writes poetry. Jingle jingle-- + +BELSIZE: I can only hope she's wrong, or it'll mean a nice job of work +for us! ... Well, if anything funny happens, nip along to Shepperley +police station. Pity you're not on the 'phone. Good morning.... Good +morning.... + +MRS. TERENCE: This way.... + +_She follows_ BELSIZE _into the hall_. + +BELSIZE: No, don't bother.... Good morning. + +_He goes out._ MRS. TERENCE _shuts the door after him_. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ HUBERT): What are _you_ staring at? + +HUBERT (_crossing to the fireplace_): Funny, I can't get out of my +mind what Olivia said about the man being somewhere who's done it. + +MRS. TERENCE (_coming into the room_): Why, Mr. Laurie, it might +be you! After all, there's nothing in your face that _proves_ it +isn't! + +HUBERT: Oh, come, come! You're being a bit hard on the old countenance, +aren't you? + +MRS. TERENCE: Well, 'e's not going to walk about with bloodshot eyes +and a snarl all over his face, is he? + +_She goes into the kitchen._ + +HUBERT: That's true enough. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Missing woman indeed! She's more likely than not at this +very moment sitting in some saloon bar. Or the films, I shouldn't +wonder. (_To_ OLIVIA) pass me my wool, will you.... + +OLIVIA _crosses to the desk. A knock at the kitchen door_: DORA +_appears, cautiously._ + +DORA: _Was_ it about me? + +OLIVIA: Of course it wasn't. + +DORA (_relieved_): Oh.... Please, mum, 'e's 'ere. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Who? + +DORA: My boy fr--my gentleman friend, ma'am, from the Tallboys. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'm ready for him. (_Waving aside the wool which_ +OLIVIA _brings to her_) The sooner he's made to realise what his +duty _is_, the better. _I_'ll give him baby-face! + +DORA: Thank you, ma'am. + +_She goes out through the front door._ + +HUBERT: What gentleman? What duty? + +OLIVIA: The maid's going to have a baby. (_She crosses and puts the +wool in the cupboard of the desk._) + +HUBERT: Is she, by Jove!... Don't look at me like that, Mrs. Bramson! +I've only been in the county two weeks.... But is _he_ from the +Tallboys? + +MRS. BRAMSON: A page-boy or something of the sort. + +DORA _comes back to the front door, looks back, and beckons. She is +followed by_ DAN, _who saunters past her into the room. He is a +young fellow wearing a blue pill-box hat, uniform trousers, a jacket +too small for him, and bicycle-clips: the stub of a cigarette dangles +between his lips. He speaks with a rough accent, indeterminate, but +more Welsh than anything else. + +His personality varies very considerably as the play proceeds: the +impression he gives at the moment is one of totally disarming good +humour and childlike unself-consciousness. It would need a very close +observer to suspect that there is something wrong somewhere--that this +personality is completely assumed._ DORA _shuts the front door and +comes to the back of the sofa._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sternly_): Well? + +DAN (_saluting_): Mornin', all! + +MRS. BRAMSON: So you're Baby-face? + +DAN: That's me. (_Grinning._) Silly name, isn't it? (_After a +pause._) I must apologise to all and sundry for this fancy dress, +but it's my working togs. I been on duty this mornin', and my hands +isn't very clean. You see, I didn't know as it was going to be a party. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Party? + +DAN (_looking at_ OLIVIA): Well, it's ladies, isn't it? + +HUBERT: Are you shy with ladies? + +DAN (_smiling at_ OLIVIA): Oh, yes. + +OLIVIA _moves away coldly._ DAN _turns to_ MRS. BRAMSON. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_cutting_): You smoke, I see. + +DAN: Yes. (_Taking the stub out of his mouth with alacrity and taking +off his hat_) Oh, I'm sorry. I always forget my manners with a +cigarette when I'm in company.... (_Pushing the stub behind his ear, +as_ OLIVIA _crosses to the armchair_) I always been clumsy in +people's houses. I am sorry. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You know my maid, Dora Parkoe, I believe? + +DAN: Well, we have met, yes ... (_with a grin at_ DORA). + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ DORA): Go away! + +DORA _creeps back into the kitchen_. + +You walked out with her last August Bank Holiday? + +DAN: Yes.... Excuse me smiling, but it sounds funny when you put it +like that, doesn't it? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You ought to be ashamed of yourself. + +DAN (_soberly_): Oh, I am. + +MRS. BRAMSON: How did it happen? + +DAN (_embarrassed_): Well ... we went ... did _you_ have a +nice bank holiday? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Answer my question! + +HUBERT: Were you in love with the wench? + +DAN: Oh, yes! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_triumphantly_): When did you first meet her? + +DAN: Er--bank holiday morning. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Picked her up, I suppose? + +DAN: Oh, no, I didn't pick her up! I asked her for a match, and then I +took her for a bit of a walk, to take her mind off her work-- + +HUBERT: You seem to have succeeded. + +DAN (_smiling at him, then catching_ MRS. BRAMSON's _eye_): +I've thought about it a good bit since, I can tell you. Though it's a +bit awkward talking about it in front of strangers; though you all look +very nice people; but it is a _bit_ awkward-- + +HUBERT: I should jolly well think it is awkward for a chap! Though of +course, never having been in the same jam myself-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: I haven't finished with him yet. + +HUBERT: In that case I'm going for my stroll ... + +_He makes for the door to the hall._ + +OLIVIA: You work at the Tallboys, don't you? + +DAN: Yes, miss. (_Grinning_) Twenty-four hours a day, miss. + +HUBERT (_coming to_ DAN'S _left_): Then perhaps you can tell +us something about the female who's been murdered?-- + +_An unaccountable pause_. DAN _looks slowly from_ OLIVIA +_to_ HUBERT, _and back again_. + +Well, can you tell us? You know there was a Mrs. Chalfont staying at +the Tallboys who went off one day? + +DAN: Yes. + +HUBERT: And nobody's seen her since? + +DAN: I know. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's she like? + +DAN (_to_ MRS. BRAMSON): But I thought you said--or somebody +said--something about--a murder? + +HUBERT: Oh, we don't_know_, of course, but there _might_ have +been, mightn't there? + +DAN (_suddenly effusive_): Yes, there might have been, yes! + +HUBERT: Ever seen her? + +DAN: Oh, yes. I used to take cigarettes an' drinks for her. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_impatiently_): What's she _like_? + +DAN: What's she like?... (_To_ MRS. BRAMSON)--She's ... on the +tall side. Thin ankles, with one o' them bracelets on one of 'em. +(_Looking at_ OLIVIA) Fair hair-- + +_A sudden thought seems to arrest him. He goes on looking at_ +OLIVIA. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well? Go on! + +DAN (_after a pause, in a level voice_): Thin eyebrows, with white +marks, where they was pulled out ... to be in the fashion, you know.... +Her mouth ... a bit thin as well, with red stuff painted round it, to +make it look more; you can rub it off ... I suppose. Her neck ... +rather thick. Laughs a bit loud; and then it stops. (_After a +pause_) She's ... very lively. (_With a quick smile that dispels +the atmosphere he has unaccountably created_) You can't say I don't +keep my eyes skinned, can you? + +HUBERT: I should say you do! A living portrait, if ever there was one, +what? Now-- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_pointedly_): Weren't you going for a walk? + +HUBERT: So I was, by Jove! Well, I'll charge off. Bye-bye. + +_He goes out of the front door_. + +OLIVIA (_her manner faintly hostile_): You're very observant. + +DAN: Well, the ladies, you know ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: If he weren't so observant, that Dora mightn't be in the +flummox she is now. + +DAN (_cheerfully_): That's true, ma'am. + +OLIVIA (_rising_): You don't sound very repentant. + +DAN (_as she crosses, stiffly_): Well, what's done's done's my +motto, isn't it? + +_She goes into the sun-room. He makes a grimace after her and holds +his left hand out, the thumb pointing downwards_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And what does that mean? + +DAN: She's a nice bit of ice for next summer, isn't she? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You're a proper one to talk about next summer, when Dora +there'll be up hill and down dale with a perambulator. Now look here, +young man, immorality-- + +MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen_. + +MRS. TERENCE: The butcher wants paying. And 'e says there's men +ferreting at the bottom of the garden looking for that Mrs. Chalfont +and do you know about it. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_furious_): Well, they won't ferret long, not among +my pampas grass!... (_Calling_) Olivia!... Oh, that girl's never +there. (_Wheeling herself furiously towards the kitchen as_ MRS. +TERENCE _makes a move to help her_) Leave me alone. I don't want +to be pushed into the nettles to-day, thank you ... (_Shouting loudly +as she disappears into the kitchen_) Come out of my garden, you! +Come out! + +MRS. TERENCE (_looking towards the kitchen as_ DAN _takes the +stub from behind his ear and lights it_): Won't let me pay the +butcher, so I won't know where she keeps 'er purse; but I do know, so +put that in your pipe and smoke it! + +DAN (_going to her and jabbing her playfully in the arm_): They +say down at the Tallboys she's got enough inside of 'er purse, too. +MRS. TERENCE: Well, nobody's seen it open. If you 'ave a peep inside, +young fellow, you'll go down in 'istory, that's what you'll do ... +(_Dan salutes her. She sniffs_) Something's boiling over. + +_She rushes back into the kitchen as_ OLIVIA _comes back from +the sun-room_. + +OLIVIA: Did Mrs. Bramson call me, do you know? + +_A pause. He surveys her from under drooping lids, rolling his +cigarette on his lower lip_. + +DAN: I'm sorry, I don't know your name. + +OLIVIA: Oh.... + +_She senses his insolence, goes self-consciously to the desk and +takes out the wool_. + +DAN: Not much doin' round here for a girl, is there? + +_No answer_. + +It is not a very entertaining quarter of the world for a young lady, is +it? + +_He gives it up as a bad job_. DORA _comes in from the +kitchen_. + +DORA (_eagerly_): What did she ... (_confused, seeing_ +OLIVIA) Oh, beg pardon, miss.... + +_She hurries back into the kitchen_. DAN _jerks head after her +with a laugh and looks at_ OLIVIA. + +OLIVIA (_arranging wool at the table_): I'm not a snob, but, in +case you ever call here again, I'd like to point out that though I'm +employed by my aunt, I'm not quite in Dora's position. + +DAN: Oh, I hope not ... (_She turns away, confused. He moves to +her._) Though I'll be putting it all right for Dora. I'm going to +marry her. And-- + +OLIVIA (_coldly_): I don't believe you. + +DAN (_after a pause_): You don't like me, do you? + +OLIVIA: No. + +DAN (_with a smile_): Well, everybody else does! + +OLIVIA (_absorbed in her wool-sorting_): Your eyes are set quite +wide apart, your hands are quite good ... I don't really know what's +wrong with you. + +DAN _looks at his outspread hands. A pause. He breaks it, and goes +nearer to her_. + +DAN (_persuasively_): You know, I've been looking at you too. +You're lonely, aren't you? I could see-- + +OLIVIA: I'm sorry, it's a waste of time doing your stuff with me. I'm +not the type. (_Crossing to the desk and turning suddenly to him_) +Are you playing up to Mrs. Bramson? + +DAN: Playin' up? + +OLIVIA: It crossed my mind for a minute. You stand a pretty poor chance +there, you know. + +DAN (_after a pause, smiling_): What d'you bet me? + +OLIVIA _turns from him, annoyed, and puts the wool away_. + +MRS. BRAMSON _careers in from the kitchen in her chair_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: They say they've got permits to look for that silly +woman--who are _they_, I'd like to know? If there's anything I +hate, it's these men who think they've got authority. + +OLIVIA: I don't think they're quite as bad as men who think they've got +charm. + +_She goes back into the sun-room_. DAN _whistles_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What did she mean by that? + +DAN: Well, it's no good her thinkin' _she's_ got any, is it? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sternly_). Now, young man, what about Dora? I-- + +DAN: Wait a minute ... (_Putting his hat on the table and going to +her_) Are you sure you're comfortable like that? Don't you think, +Mrs. Bramson, you ought to be facin' ... a wee bit more this side, +towards the sun more, eh? (_He moves her chair round till she is in +the centre of the room, facing the sun-room_) You're looking pale, +you know. (_As she stares at him, putting the stub in an ashtray on +the table_) I am sorry. Excuse rudeness ... Another thing, Mrs. +Bramson--you don't mind me sayin' it, do you?--but you ought to have a +rug, you know. This October weather's very treacherous. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_blinking_): Pale? Did you say pale? + +DAN: Washed out. (_His wiles fully turned on, but not overdone in the +slightest_) The minute I saw you just now, I said to myself, now +there's a lady that's got a lot to contend with. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh ... Well, I have. Nobody knows it better than me. + +DAN: No, I'm sure ... Oh, it must be terrible to watch everybody else +striding up and down enjoying everything, and to see everybody tasting +the fruit-- + +_As she looks at him, appreciation of what he is saying grows visibly +in her face_. + +I'm sorry ... (_Diffidently_) I didn't ha' ought to say that. + +MRS. BRAMSON: But it's true! As true as you are my witness, and nobody +else--(_Pulling herself together_) Now look here, about that girl-- + +DAN: Excuse me a minute.... (_Examining her throat, like a +doctor_) Would you mind sayin' something? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_taken aback_): What d'you want me to say? + +DAN: Yes ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes. What? + +DAN: There's a funny twitching in your neck when you talk--very slight, +of course--nerves, I expect--But I hope your doctor knows all about it +... D'you mind if I ask what your ailments are? + +MRS. BRAMSON: ... Hadn't you better sit down? + +DAN (_sitting_): Thank you. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, I have the most terrible palpitations. I-- + +DAN: Palpitations! (_Whistling_.) But the way you get about! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh? + +DAN: It's a pretty bad thing to have, you know. D'you know that nine +women out of ten in your position'd be just sittin' down givin' way? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Would they? + +DAN: Yes, they would! I do know, as a matter of fact. I've known +people with palpitations. Somebody very close to me ... (_After a +pause, soberly_) They're dead now ... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_startled_): Oh! + +DAN: My mother, as a matter of fact ... + +_With finely controlled emotion, practically indistinguishable from +the real thing_. + +I can just remember her. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh? + +DAN: She died when I was six. I know that, because my dad died two +years before that. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_vaguely_): Oh. + +DAN (_studying her_): As a matter o' fact-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes? + +DAN: Oh, no, it's a daft thing-- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_the old tart note creeping back_): Come along now! +Out with it! + +DAN: It's only fancy, I suppose ... but ... you remind me a bit of her. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Of your mother? (_As he nods simply, her sentimentality +stirring_) Oh ... + +DAN: Have you got a son? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_self-pityingly_): I haven't anybody at all. + +DAN: Oh ... But I don't like to talk too much about my mother. +(_Putting a finger unobtrusively to his eye_) Makes me feel ... +sort of sad ... (_With a sudden thought_) She had the same eyes +very wide apart as you, and--and the same very good hands. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_looking interestedly at her fingers_): Oh?... And +the same palpitations? + +DAN: And the same palpitations. You don't mind me talking about your +health, do you? + +MRS. BRAMSON: No. + +DAN: Well, d'you know, you ought to get used to letting _other_ +people do things for you. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_a great truth dawning on her_): Yes! + +DAN: You ought to be very careful. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes! (_After a pause, eyeing him as he smiles at +her_) You're a funny boy to be a page-boy. + +DAN (_shyly_): D'you think so? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, now I come to talk to you, you seem so much better +class--I mean, you know so much of the world-- + +DAN: I've knocked about a good bit, you know. Never had any advantages, +but I always tried to do the right thing. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_patronisingly_): I think you deserve better-- +(_sharply again_) Talking of the right thing, what about Dora? + +DAN (_disarming_): Oh, I know I'm to blame; I'm not much of a +chap, but I'd put things straight like a shot if I had any money ... +But, you see, I work at the Tallboys, get thirty bob a week, with +tips--but listen to me botherin' you with my worries and rubbish the +state you're in ... well! + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, I can stand it. + +OLIVIA _comes back from the sun-room_. + +(_Pursing her lips, reflectively_) I've taken a liking to you. + +DAN: Well ... (_looking round at OLIVIA_) That's very kind of +you, Mrs. Bramson ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: It's the way you talked about your mother. That's what +it was. + +DAN: Was it? + +OLIVIA (_at the left window_): Shall I pack these books? + +DAN (_going to her with alacrity, taking the parcel from her_): +I'll post them for you. + +OLIVIA: Oh ... + +DAN: I'm passing Shepperley post office on the bike before post time +to-morrow morning. With pleasure! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Have you got to go back? + +DAN: Now? Well, no, not really ... I've finished on duty now I done +that errand, and this is my half day. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_imperiously_): Stay to lunch. + +DAN (_apparently taken aback, after a look at_ OLIVIA): Well--I +don't like to impose myself-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: In the kitchen, of course. + +DAN: Oh, I know-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: There's plenty of food! Stay to lunch! + +DAN: Well--I don't know ... all right, so long as you let me help a bit +this morning ... Don't you want some string for this? Where's it kep'? + +MRS. BRAMSON: That woman knows. In the kitchen somewhere. + +DAN: Through here? + +_He tosses the books on the sofa and hurries into the kitchen_. +MRS. BRAMSON _holds out her hands and studies them with a new +interest_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: That boy's got understanding. + +OLIVIA: Enough to marry Dora? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You ought to learn to be a little less bitter, my dear. +Never hook a man if you don't. With him and that Dora, I'm not so sure +it wasn't six of one and half a dozen of the other. I know human +nature, and, mark my word, that boy's going to do big things. + +_A scurry in the garden_. MRS. TERENCE _rushes in from the front +door, madly excited_. + +MRS. TERENCE: The paper-boy's at the back gate, and says there's a +placard in Shepperley, and it's got "News of the World--Shepperley +Mystery" on it! + +MRS. BRAMSON: What! + +OLIVIA: They've got it in the papers! + +MRS. TERENCE: They've got it in the papers! D'ye want any? (_Beside +herself_.) + +MRS. BRAMSON: Catch him quick! + +MRS. TERENCE: First time I ever 'eard of Shepperley being in print +before--hi! + +_She races out of the front door_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Running around the house shouting like a lunatic! +Sensation mad! Silly woman! + +DORA _runs in from kitchen_. + +DORA: They've got it in the papers! + +MRS. BRAMSON: Go away! + +MRS. TERENCE (_off_): I've bought three! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_shouting_): Be QUIET! + +MRS. TERENCE _runs back with three Sunday newspapers and gives one +to_ OLIVIA _and one to_ MRS. BRAMSON. + +OLIVIA (_sitting left of the table_): I expect it is a bit of an +event. + +MRS. TERENCE (_leaning over the table, searching in her paper_): +'E says they're sellin' like ninepins-- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_turning pages over, impatiently_): Where is it?... + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, I expect it's nothing after all.... + +OLIVIA: Here it is.... (_Reading_) "Disappeared mysteriously ... +woods round the village being searched" ... then her description ... +tall ... blonde.... + +MRS. TERENCE: Blonde? I should think she is ... I can't find it! + +OLIVIA: Here's something ... "A keeper in the Shepperley woods was +closely questioned late last night, but he had heard nothing, beyond a +woman's voice in the woods on the afternoon in question, and a man's +voice, probably with her, singing 'Mighty Lak a Rose.' Enquiries are +being pursued...." + +MRS. BRAMSON: "Mighty Lak a Rose." What rubbish!... + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh yes.... It's the 'eadline in this one. (_Humming the +tune absently as she reads_) "Don't know what to call you, but +you're mighty lak a rose." ... Those men have done rummaging in the +garden, anyway. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I must go this minute and have a look at my pampas grass. +And if they've damaged it I'll bring an action. + +MRS. TERENCE: Fancy Shepperley bein' in print. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Wheel me out, and don't talk so much. + +MRS. TERENCE (_manoeuvring her through the front door_): I could +talk me 'ead off and not talk as much as some people I could mention. + +OLIVIA _is alone. A pause. She spreads her paper on the table and +finds_ DAN'S _hat under it. She picks it up and looks at it_; +DAN _comes in from the kitchen with a ball of tangled string, a +cigarette between his lips. He is about to take the books into the +kitchen, when he sees her. He crosses to her_. + +DAN: Excuse me ... (_Taking the hat from her, cheerfully_) I think +I'll hang it in the hall, same as if I was a visitor ... + +_He does so, then takes up the book, sits on the sofa, and begins to +unravel the string. A pause_. + +You don't mind me stayin' and havin' a bit o' lunch ... in the kitchen, +do you? + +OLIVIA: It's not for me to say. As I told you before, I'm really a +servant here. + +DAN (_after a pause_): You're not a very ordinary servant, +though, are you? + +OLIVIA (_turning over a page_): N-no ... + +DAN: Neither am I. + +_He unpicks a knot, and begins to hum absentmindedly. The humming +gradually resolves itself into faint singing._ + +(_Singing_) "I'm a pretty little feller ... everybody knows ..." + +OLIVIA _looks up; a thought crosses her mind. She turns her head and +looks at him. + +The Curtain begins to fall slowly. + +(Singing, as he intently unravels the string_) + +"Don't know what to call me--but I'm mighty lak a rose...." + +THE CURTAIN IS DOWN + + + +ACT II + +SCENE I + +_An afternoon twelve days later. The weather is a little duller._ + +MRS. BRAMSON _is sitting on the right of the table in her invalid +chair, puzzling out a game of patience. She has smartened up her +appearance in the interval and is wearing purple, and earrings._ +OLIVIA _is sitting opposite her, smoking a cigarette, a pencil and +pad on the table in front of her; she is pondering and writing. A +portable gramophone on a small table next the desk is playing the +H.M.V. dance record of "Dames." + +A pause_. MRS. BRAMSON _coughs. She coughs again, and looks at_ +OLIVIA, _waving her hand before her, clearing away billows of +imaginary smoke_. + +OLIVIA: I'm sorry. Is my cigarette worrying you? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_temper_): Not at all. I like it! + +OLIVIA _stubs out her cigarette with a resigned look and goes on +making notes_. DAN _enters from the kitchen, keeping time to the +music, carrying a bunch of roses, wearing overalls over flannel +trousers and a brown golf jacket, and smoking. He goes to the fireplace +and clumps the roses into a vase on the mantelpiece, humming the tune. +He crosses to the gramophone, still in rhythm,_ MRS. BRAMSON +_keeping time skittishly with her hands. He turns off the gramophone +and looks over_ OLIVIA'S _shoulder at what she is writing._ + +DAN (_singing_): "Their home addresses ... and their caresses ... +linger in my memory of ... those beautiful dames" ... (_His hand to +his forehead_) That's me! + +OLIVIA _looks at him coldly and continues her notes._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: It won't come out.... + +DAN _shrugs his shoulders, stands behind_ MRS. BRAMSON'S _chair, +and studies her play._ OLIVIA _follows his example from her +side._ + +OLIVIA (_pointing to two cards_): Look. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_infuriated_): I saw that! Leave me alone, and +don't interfere. + +_A pause._ DAN _makes a quick movement and puts one card on +another. + +(Pleased and interested, quite unconscious to the difference in her +attitude_) Oh, yes, dear, of course.... + +OLIVIA (_as_ MRS. BRAMSON _makes a move_): No, that's a +spade. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): No such thing; it's a club. It's got a +wiggle on it. + +DAN: They both got wiggles on 'em. (_Pointing to another card_) +This is a club. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh yes, dear, so it is! OLIVIA (_writing_): The +ironmonger says there _were_ two extra gallons of paraffin not +paid for. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And they _won't_ be paid for either--not if I have +to go to law about it. + +_A pause. She coughs absently_. + +DAN: I'm sorry. Is my cigarette worrying you? + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, no, dear. + +_This has its effect on_ OLIVIA. DAN _sits on the left of the +table, where "East Lynne" is open on the table_. + +I'm sick of patience. + +DAN (_reading laboriously_): "You old-fashioned child--" + +MRS. BRAMSON: What? + +DAN: _East Lynne_. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh.... + +DAN (_reading_): "'You old-fashioned child!' retorted Mrs. Vane. +'Why did you not put on your diamonds?' 'I-did-put on my diamonds,' +stammered Lady Isabel. 'But I--took them off again.' 'What on earth +for?'" That's the other lady speaking there-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear.... + +DAN: "'What on earth for?' ... 'I did not like to be too fine,' +answered Lady Isabel, with a laugh--" (_turning over_) "--and a +blush. 'They glittered so! I feared it might be thought I had put them +on to look fine.'" + +MRS. BRAMSON (_absently_): Good, isn't it? + +DAN (_flicking ash_): Oh, yes, reelistic.... (_Reading_) "'I +see you mean to set up among that class of people who pree-tend to +dee-spise ornyment,' scornfully ree-marked Mrs. Vane. 'It is the +ree-finement of aff-affectation, Lady Isabel----'" + +_An excited knock at the kitchen door._ DORA _enters._ DAN +_turns back the page and surveys what he has been reading, scratching +his head._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_the old edge to her voice_): What is it? + +DORA: Them men's in the wood again. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What men? + +DORA: The men lookin' for that Mrs. Chalfont. + +_A pause._ DAN _hums "Dames" under his breath._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: You don't mean to tell me they're still at it? But +they've been pottering about since ... when was that day Mr. Dan left +the Tallboys? + +DORA (_stressing a little bitterly_): _Mister_ Dan? + +DAN (_smiling_): Ahem!... + +DORA: _Mister_ Dan first came to work for you, mum, a week last +Monday.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, I think it's a disgrace---- + +DORA: _I_'ve found something! + +DAN'S _humming stops abruptly; he swivels round and looks at_ +DORA, _his face unseen by the audience._ OLIVIA _and_ MRS. +BRAMSON _stare at_ DORA; _a pause._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: _You've_ found something? + +OLIVIA: What? + +DORA (_excited_): This! + +_She holds out her left arm and lets jail from her fist the length of +a soiled belt. A pause._ OLIVIA _puts down her pencil and pad, +goes to her, and looks at the belt._ + +OLIVIA: Yes, of course, it's mine! I missed it last week.... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_baulked of excitement_): Oh yes, I thought I +recognised it.... What nonsense!... + +DAN _looks at her; chuckling._ + +DORA (_going, dolefully_): I'm ever so disappointed.... + +_She goes into the kitchen._ OLIVIA _goes to the armchair by the +fireplace._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: She'll be joining Scotland Yard next.... Go on, dear. + +DAN (_reading_): "'It is the ree-finement of affectation, Lady +Isabel----'" + +_The clock chimes. + +(Clapping his hands, to_ MRS. BRAMSON) Ah! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_pleased_): Oh, Danny ... + +_He hurries to the medicine cupboard and pours medicine into a +spoon._ HUBERT _comes in from the front door._ + +HUBERT (_eagerly_): Have you heard? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_eagerly_): What? + +HUBERT: Dora's found a belt! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_disappointed again_): Oh ... it was Olivia's. + +HUBERT: I say, what a shame!... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Tch, tch!... All this sensation-mong---- + +DAN _drowns her speech by deftly pouring the spoonful of medicine +down her throat. He pushes her chocolate-box towards her, and strides +briskly into the hall._ + +Horrid.... + +DAN (_taking a soft hat from the rack and putting it on_): Good +for you, though, the way you are.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear. + +DAN (_coming into the room, and beginning to take off his +overalls_): And now it's time for your walk.... (_Smiling at_ +OLIVIA) It's all right, I got trousers on.... (_Peeling the overalls +over his feet, and tossing them on to the left window-seat_) Listen +to me talking about your walk, when you'll be in a chair all the +time.... (_Chuckling, to_ HUBERT) That's funny, isn't it!... +(_Going to_ MRS. BRAMSON) Come on, I got your shawl and your rug +in the hall.... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he wheels her into the hall_): Have you got my +pills? + +DAN: I got them in my pocket. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And my chocolates? + +DAN: I got them in my pocket too. Here's your hat--better put it on +yourself. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear. + +DAN: And here's your shawl. + +MRS. BRAMSON: It isn't a shawl, it's a cape. + +DAN: Well, I don't know, do I? And I carry your rug on my shoulder.... +(_To the others_) See you later! Be good! + +_Shutting the front door, his voice dying as the chair passes the +left window._ + +Down this way to-day.... + +_A pause. HUBERT and OLIVIA look at each other._ + +OLIVIA (_suddenly_): What do _you_ think of him? + +HUBERT (_a little taken aback_): Him? Grannie's white-headed boy, +you mean? Oh, he's all right. (_Heavily_.) A bit slow on the +uptake, of course. I wish he'd occasionally take that fag-end out of +his mouth. + +OLIVIA: He does. For _her_. + +HUBERT: That's true. That's why he's made such a hit with her. Funny I +haven't been able to manage it. In two weeks, too ... it's uncanny. + +OLIVIA: Uncanny?... I think it's clever. + +HUBERT: You don't think he's a wrong 'un, do you? + +OLIVIA: What do we know about him? + +HUBERT: Why ... his Christian name? + +OLIVIA: And that's all. + +HUBERT: He looks pretty honest. + +OLIVIA: Looks? (_After a pause_.) It's rather frightening to think +what a face can hide.... I sometimes catch sight of one looking at me. +Careful lips, and blank eyes.... And then I find I'm staring at myself +in the glass ... and I realise how successfully I'm hiding the thoughts +I know so well ... and then I know we're all ... strangers. Windows, +with blinds, and behind them ... secrets. What's behind _his_ +eyes? (_After a pause, with a smile_) You're quite right, it +_is_ morbid. + +HUBERT: D'you think he's a thief or something? By Jove, I left my links +on the washstand before lunch! + +OLIVIA: He's acting ... every minute of the time. I know he is! But +he's acting pretty well, because I don't know _how_ I know.... +He's walking about here all day, and talking a little, and smiling, and +smoking cigarettes.... Impenetrable ... that's what it is! What's going +on--in his mind? What's he thinking of? (_Vehemently_ ) He +_is_ thinking of something! All the time! What is it? + +_DAN enters from the front door and smiles broadly at them._ + +DAN: Anybody seen my lady's pills? It's a matter of life and death.... +I thought _I_ had 'em. + +_HUBERT chuckles._ + +OLIVIA (_after a pause, in a level voice_): Oh, yes. They're in +the top drawer of the desk. I'm so sorry. + +DAN: Thank you. + +_He salutes her, goes to the desk, and takes out the pills. They +watch him._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_off_) Danny! + +DAN: Oh, yes, here they are.... + +HUBERT (_to say something_): Is she feeling off colour again? + +DAN (_on his way to the front door_): Off colour? She's never been +on it, man! To hear her go on you'd think the only thing left is +artificial respiration, And chocolates.... (_Laughing, and +calling_) Coming! + +_He goes, shutting the front door behind him._ + +HUBERT: No, really you have to laugh! + +OLIVIA: But what you've just seen ... that's exactly what I mean! It's +acting! He's not being himself for a minute--it's all put on for our +benefit ... don't you see? + +HUBERT (_banteringly_): D'you know, I think you're in love with +him. + +OLIVIA (_with rather more impatience than is necessary_): Don't +be ridiculous. + +HUBERT: I was only joking. + +OLIVIA: He's common and insolent, and I dislike him intensely. + +MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen._ + +MRS. TERENCE: What'll you 'ave for tea, scones or crumpets? Can't make +both. + +OLIVIA: What d'_you_ think of Dan? + +MRS. TERENCE: Dan? Oh, 'e's all right. Bit of a mystery. + +HUBERT: Oh. + +MRS. TERENCE (_shutting the kitchen door and coming into the middle +of the room_): Terrible liar, o' course. But then a lot of us are. +Told me he used to 'unt to 'ounds and 'ave 'is own pack. Before 'e went +up in the world and went as a page-boy, I suppose. + +OLIVIA (_to_ HUBERT): You see? He wouldn't try that on with us, +but couldn't resist it with her. + +HUBERT: I wonder how soon the old girl'll get his number?... Oh, but +fair play, we're talking about the chap as if he were the most +terrible---- + +MRS. TERENCE: Why, what's 'e done? + +HUBERT: Exactly. + +OLIVIA: I don't know, but I feel so strongly ... Is Dora there?... +(_Calling cautiously_) Dora! + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, she won't know anything. She's as 'alf-witted as +she's lazy, and that's sayin' a lot. She'd cut 'er nose off to stop the +dust-bin smelling sooner than empty it, she would. + +DORA _comes in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron._ + +DORA: Did somebody say Dora? + +OLIVIA: Has Dan said any more about marrying you? + +DORA: No. _She_ 'asn't brought it up again, either. + +OLIVIA: Does he talk to you at all? + +DORA (_perplexed_): Oh ... only how-do-you-do and beg-your-pardon. +I've never really spent any time in 'is company, you see. Except, o' +course-- + +HUBERT: Quite. What's your idea of him? + +DORA: Oh.... (_Moving to the centre of the room_) 'E's all right. +Takes 'is fun where 'e finds it. And leaves it.... Cracks 'imself up, +you know. Pretends 'e doesn't care a twopenny, but always got 'is eye +on what you're thinking of 'im ... if you know what I mean. + +OLIVIA: Yes, I do. That incredible vanity ... they always have it. +Always. + +HUBERT: Who? + +_A pause._ + +OLIVIA: Murderers. + +_A pause. They stare at her._ + +HUBERT: Good God!... + +MRS. TERENCE: D'you mean ... this woman they're looking for? + +OLIVIA: I'm sure of it. + +MRS. TERENCE: But 'es's such a--such a ordinary boy-- + +OLIVIA: That's just it--and then he's suddenly so ... extraordinary. +I've felt it ever since I heard him sing that song--I told you-- + +HUBERT: That "mighty-lak-a-rose" thing, you mean? Oh, but it's a pretty +well-known one-- + +OLIVIA: It's more than that. I've kept on saying to myself: No, +murder's a thing we read about in the papers; it isn't real life; it +can't touch us. ... But it can. And it's here. All round us. In the +forest ... in this house. We're ... living with it. (_After a pause, +rising decisively_) Bring his luggage in here, will you, Mrs. +Terence? + +MRS. TERENCE (_staggered_): 'Is luggage? (_Recovering, to_ +DORA) Give me a 'and. + +_Wide-eyed, she goes into the kitchen, followed by_ DORA. + +HUBERT: I say, this is a bit thick, you know--spying-- + +OLIVIA (_urgently_): We may never have the house to ourselves +again. + +_She runs to each window and looks out across the forest._ MRS. +TERENCE _returns carrying luggage: one large and one small +suitcase_. DORA _follows, lugging an old-fashioned thick leather +hat-box_. MRS. TERENCE _places the suitcases on the table_; +DORA _plants the hat-box in the middle of the floor._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_in a conspiratorial tone_): This is all. + +HUBERT: But look here, we can't do this-- + +OLIVIA _snaps open the lid of the larger suitcase with a jerk. A +pause. They look, almost afraid_. DORA _moves to the back of the +table._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_as_ OLIVIA _lifts it gingerly_): A dirty shirt ... + +HUBERT: That's all right. + +OLIVIA: A clean pair of socks ... packet of razor-blades ... + +HUBERT: We shouldn't be doing this--I feel as if I were at school +again-- + +MRS. TERENCE: Singlet ... + +OLIVIA: Half ticket to Shepperley Palais de Danse ... + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, it's a proper 'aunt! + +DORA: Oh, 'ere's a pocket-book. With a letter. + +(_She gives the letter to_ MRS. TERENCE _and the pocket-book +to_ OLIVIA.) + +HUBERT: Look here, this is going a bit too far--you can't do this to a +chap-- + +MRS. TERENCE (_taking the letter from the envelope_): Don't be +silly, dear, your wife'll do it to you 'undreds of times.... +(_Sniffing the note-paper_) Pooh.... (_Reading, as they crane +over her shoulder_) "Dear Baby-Face my own ..." Signed Lil.... + +OLIVIA: What awful writing.... + +MRS. TERENCE (_reading, heavily_): "... Next time you strike +Newcastle, O.K. by me, baby...." Ooh! + +HUBERT: Just another servant-girl.... Sorry, Dora.... + +DORA (_lugubriously_): O.K. + +OLIVIA (_rummaging in the pocket-book_): Bus ticket to Thorburton, +some snaps ... + +MRS. TERENCE: Look at 'er _bust_! + +OLIVIA: Here's a group.... Look, Hubert.... + +HUBERT _joins her in front of the table._ + +HUBERT: This wench is rather fetching. + +MRS. TERENCE (_crowding between them_): Look at _'er_!... The +impudence, 'er being taken in a bathing-suit!... + +DORA: He's not in this one, is 'e? + +HUBERT (_impressed_): Oh, I say ... there _she_ is! + +MRS. TERENCE and DORA: who? + +HUBERT: The missing female! In front of the tall man.... You remember +the photograph of her in the _Mirror_? + +DORA: It's awful to think she may be dead. Awful.... + +MRS. TERENCE: Looks ever so sexy, doesn't she? + +DORA: 'Ere's one of a little boy-- + +OLIVIA: How extraordinary.... + +HUBERT: What? + +OLIVIA: It's himself. + +DORA: The little Eton collar.... Oh, dear ... ever so sweet, isn't it? +MRS. TERENCE: Now that's what I call a real innocent face.... + +HUBERT (_going to the centre of the room_): Well, that's that.... + +OLIVIA: Wait a minute, wasn't there another one? (_Seeing the +hat-box_) Oh, yes.... + +HUBERT (_lifting it on to a chair_): Oh, this; yes.... + +DORA: Old-fashioned, isn't it? + +MRS. TERENCE: I should think he got it from a box-room at the +Tallboys-- + +OLIVIA (_puzzled_): But it looks so extraordinary--(_She gives a +sudden gasp.) + +They look at her. She is staring at the box. A pause._ + +HUBERT: What is it? + +OLIVIA: I don't know.... Suppose there is something ... inside it? + +_A pause. They stare at her, fascinated by her thought. The front +door bangs. They are electrified into action: but it is too late. It +is_ DAN. _He goes briskly to the table._ + +DAN: She wants to sit in the sun now and have a bit of _East +Lynne_. Talk about changin' your mind-- + +_He sees the suitcases on the table before him, and is motionless and +silent. A pause. The others dare not move. He finally breaks the +situation, takes up "East Lynne" from the table, and walks slowly back +to the front door. He stops, looks round at_ HUBERT, _smiles, and +comes down to him. His manner is normal--too normal._ + +Could I have it back, please? It's the only one I got.... + +HUBERT: Oh ... yes, of course.... (_Handing him the pocket-book._) + +DAN (_taking it_): Thank you very much. + +HUBERT: Not at all ... I ... (_To_ OLIVIA) Here, you deal with +this. It's beyond me. + +DAN (_to him_): Did you see the picture of me when I was a little +fellow? + +HUBERT: Yes.... Very jolly. + +DAN (_turning to_ MRS. TERENCE): Did _you?_ It was in the +inside of my wallet. + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh ... was it? + +DAN: Yes. Where I should be keeping my money, only any bit of money I +have I always keep _on_ me. (_Turning to_ HUBERT) Safer, don't +you think? + +HUBERT (_smiling weakly_): Ye-es.... + +DAN: I only keep one ten-bob note in this wallet, for emergencies.... +(_Looking_) That's funny. It's gone. + +_He looks at_ HUBERT. _The others look blankly at one +another._ ... I expect I dropped it somewhere.... What did you think +of the letter? + +HUBERT: Letter? + +DAN: You got in your hand. + +HUBERT: Well, I didn't--er-- + +DAN: Means well, does Lil; but we had a row. (_Taking back the +letter_) She would spy on me. And if there's anythin' I hate, it's +spyin'. Don't you agree? + +HUBERT: Ye-es. + +DAN: I'd sooner have anythin' than a spy. (_To_ MRS. TERENCE) Bar +a murderer, o' course. + +_A pause. He is arranging his property in his wallet._ + +HUBERT (_incredulous_): What--what did you say? + +DAN (_turning to him casually_): Bar a murderer, o' course! + +OLIVIA _steps forward_. MRS. TERENCE _steps back from the chair +on which the hat-box has been placed_. + +OLIVIA (_incisively_): Talking of murder, do you know anything +about Mrs. Chalfont's whereabouts at the moment? + +DAN _turns to her, and for the first time sees the hat-box. He +stands motionless. A pause._ + +DAN: Mrs. Who? OLIVIA: You can't pretend you've never heard of her. + +DAN (_turning to_ HUBERT, _recovering himself_): Oh, Mrs. +_Chalfont's_ whereabouts! I thought she said her name was Mrs. +Chalfontswear. (_Profusely_) Silly.... Swear--about--couldn't +think---- + +OLIVIA: Well? + +DAN (_still looking at_ HUBERT, _brightly, after a pause_): +I've nothin' to go on, but I think she's been ... murdered. + +HUBERT: Oh, you do? + +DAN: Yes, I do. + +MRS. TERENCE: Who by? + +DAN: They say she had several chaps on a string, and----(_Suddenly_) +There was one fellow, a London chap, a bachelor, very citified--with a +fair moust----(_He stares at_ HUBERT.) + +HUBERT (_touching his moustache, unconsciously_): What are you +looking at me for? + +DAN: Well ... you wasn't round these parts the day she bunked, was you? + +HUBERT: Yes, I was, as a matter of fact. + +DAN (_significantly_): Oh.... + +MRS. BRAMSON'S VOICE (_calling in the garden_): Danny! + +HUBERT (_flustered_): What in God's name are you getting at? + +DAN _smiles and shrugs his shoulders regretfully at him, and goes out +through the front door._ OLIVIA _sits at the table._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_to_ HUBERT, _perplexed_): Are you sure you +didn't do it, sir? + +HUBERT: I'm going out for a breath of air. + +_He takes his hat and stick as he goes through the hall, and goes out +through the front door._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_to_ OLIVIA): You don't still think-- + +OLIVIA: I won't say any more. I know how silly it sounds. + +DORA _runs into the kitchen, snivelling._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_to_ OLIVIA): The way you worked us all up! Doesn't +it all go to show-- + +_She hears_ DAN _return, and looks round apprehensively. He goes +to the table slowly and looks at the two suitcases._ + +DAN (_smiling, to_ MRS. TERENCE): Would you mind please givin' me +a hand with the tidyin' up?... (_Taking up the suitcases_) And +carryin' the other one?... (_Going into the kitchen, followed by_ +MRS. TERENCE _carrying the hat-box_) Looks as if we're goin' on +our holidays, doesn't it?... + +OLIVIA _is alone for a moment. She stares before her, perplexed._ +DAN _returns. She looks away. He looks at her, his eyes narrowed. A +pause. Studying her, he takes from a pocket of his jacket a formidable- +looking clasp-knife, unclasps it, and tests the blade casually with +his fingers. He glances at the mantelpiece, crosses to it, takes down a +stick, and begins to sharpen the end of it._ OLIVIA _watches him. +A pause. _ OLIVIA: _Did_ you do it? + +_He whittles at the stick._ + +DAN: You wouldn't be bad-lookin' without them glasses. + +OLIVIA: It doesn't interest me very much what I look like. + +DAN: Don't you believe it.... (_Surveying the shavings in the +hearth_) Tch!... Clumsy.... (_Looking round, and seeing a +newspaper lying on the table_) Ah.... + +_He crosses to the table. + +(Smiling, with the suspicion of a mock-bow_) Excuse me.... (_He +unfolds the newspaper on the table and begins to whittle the stick over +it_.) + +OLIVIA: You're very conceited, aren't you? + +DAN (_reassuringly_): Yes.... + +OLIVIA: And you _are_ acting all the time, aren't you? + +DAN (_staring at her, as if astonished_): Actin'? Actin' what? +(_Leaning over the table, on both arms_) Look at the way I can +look you in the eyes. I'll stare you out.... + +OLIVIA (_staring into his eyes_): I have a theory it's the +criminals who _can_ look you in the eyes, and the honest people +who blush and look away. + +DAN (_smiling_): Oh.... + +OLIVIA (_after a pause, challenging_): It's a very blank look, +though, isn't it? + +DAN (_smiling_): Is it? + +OLIVIA: You are acting, aren't you? + +DAN (_after a pause, in a whisper, almost joyfully_): Yes! + +OLIVIA (_fascinated_): And what are you like when you stop acting? + +DAN: I dunno, it's so long since I stopped. + +OLIVIA: But when you're alone? + +DAN: Then I act more than ever I do. + +OLIVIA: Why? + +DAN: I dunno; 'cause I like it.... (_Breaking the scene, pulling a +chair round to the table_) Now what d'ye say if _I_ ask a +question or two for a change? (_Sitting in the chair facing her_) +Just for a change.... Why can't you take a bit of an interest in some +other body but me? + +OLIVIA (_taken aback_): I'm not interested in you. Only you don't +talk. That's bound to make people wonder. + +DAN: I can talk a lot sometimes. A drop o' drink makes a power o' +difference to me. (_Chuckling_) You'd be surprised.... Ah.... + +_He returns to his work._ + +OLIVIA: I wonder if I would.... + +DAN: I know you would.... + +OLIVIA: I think I can diagnose you all right. + +DAN: Carry on. + +OLIVIA: You haven't any feelings ... at all.... + +_He looks slowly up at her. She has struck home._ + +But you live in a world of your own.... A world of your own +imagination. + +DAN: I don't understand so very well, not bein' so very liter-er-airy. + +OLIVIA: You follow me perfectly well. + +_He shrugs his shoulders, laughs, and goes on whittling._ + +DAN: D'you still think there's been a bit o' dirty work? + +OLIVIA: I don't know what to think now. I suppose not. + +DAN (_intent on his work, his back to the audience_): +Disappointed? + +OLIVIA: What on earth do you mean? + +DAN: Disappointed? + +OLIVIA (_laughing, in spite of herself_): Yes, I suppose I am. + +DAN: Why? + +OLIVIA (_the tension at last relaxed_): Oh, I don't know.... +Because nothing much has ever happened to me, and it's a dull day, and +it's the depths of the country.... I don't know.... + +_A piercing scream from the bottom of the garden. A pause._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_shrieking from the other side of the house_): +Danny!... Danny! + +_The clatter of footsteps in the garden_. DORA _runs in from the +hall, breathless and terrified._ + +DORA: They're diggin' ... in the rubbish-pit ... + +OLIVIA: Well? + +DORA: There's something sticking out.... + +OLIVIA: What? + +DORA: A hand ... Somebody's hand!... Oh, Miss Grayne ... somebody's +hand.... + +_She runs whimpering into the kitchen, as_ OLIVIA _rises and +runs to the left window and looks out._ + +MRS. BRAMSON'S VOICE (_calling off_): Danny! + +DAN _rises slowly, his back to the audience._ + +OLIVIA _turns and suddenly sees him. Horror grows in her face. + +The blare of music. The lights dim out._ + + + +SCENE II + +_The music plays in darkness for a few bars, then the curtain rises +again. The music fades away. + +Late afternoon, two days later._ OLIVIA _is seated above the table +snipping long cuttings from newspapers and pasting them into a ledger. +A knock at the front door. She starts nervously. Another knock._ +MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen carrying a smoothing- +iron._ + +MRS. TERENCE: If it's them police again, I'll bash their helmets in +with this. If it lands me three months, I will. + +OLIVIA: They're from Scotland Yard, and they don't wear helmets. + +MRS. TERENCE: Then they're going to get 'urt.... (_Going into the +hall_) I can tell by their looks what they think. And they better +not think it, neither. + +OLIVIA: And what do they think? + +MRS. TERENCE (_over her shoulder_): They think it's me. I know +they think it's me. + +_She goes into the hall and opens the front door._ + +HUBERT (_outside_): Good afternoon, Mrs. Terence. + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh ... come in, sir. (_Coming back into the room_) +It's a civilian for a change. + +_She is followed by_ HUBERT. + +HUBERT (_to_ OLIVIA): I say, this is all getting pretty terrible, +isn't it? + +OLIVIA: Yes, terrible. + +MRS. TERENCE: Oh, terrible, terrible. There's one word for it; it's +terrible. Forty-eight hours since they found 'er. They'll never get 'im +now. + +HUBERT: Terrible.... + +MRS. TERENCE: There was another charabanc load just after two o'clock. +All standin' round the rubbish-'cap eatin' sandwiches. Sensation, +that's what it is. + +OLIVIA: Would you like some food, Hubert? + +HUBERT: Well, I-- + +MRS. TERENCE: They're still looking for the 'ead. + +HUBERT (_to_ OLIVIA, _with a slight grimace_): No, thanks. I +had lunch. + +MRS. TERENCE: Mangled, she was, mangled.... Did you see your name in +the _Express_, sir? + +HUBERT: I--er--did catch a glimpse of it, yes. + +MRS. TERENCE: Little did you think, sir, when you was digging that pit +for my rubbish, eh? 'E may 'ave been _watchin'_ you digging it ... +ooh! I have to sit in my kitchen and think about it. + +HUBERT: Then why don't you leave? + +MRS. TERENCE (_indignantly_): How can I leave, with the whole +village waitin' on me to tell 'em the latest? (_Going towards the +kitchen_) I 'eard 'er 'ead must have been off at one stroke. One +stroke.... + +HUBERT: Really. + +MRS. TERENCE (_turning at the door_): She wasn't interfered with, +though. + +_She goes into the kitchen._ + +HUBERT: How they all love it.... How's the old lady bearing up in the +old invalid chair, eh? + +OLIVIA: She's bursting out of it with health. And loving it more than +anybody. This is my latest job--a press-cutting book. There was a +picture of her in the _Chronicle_ yesterday; she bought twenty-six +copies. + +HUBERT (_taking his pipe out_): She'll get to believe she did it +herself in the end.... Is she in? + +OLIVIA: She's gone over to Breakerly to interview a local paper. + +HUBERT: The lad pushing the go-cart?... He's the devoted son all +right, isn't he? + +OLIVIA (_after a pause_): I don't talk to him much. + +HUBERT: Nice fellow. I've thought a lot about that prying into his +things--pretty bad show, really, you know. (_Going to the left +window_) I wonder if they'll ever nab him? + +OLIVIA (_with a start_): What do you mean? + +HUBERT: The fellow who did it.... Wonder what he's doing now. + +OLIVIA: I wonder. + +HUBERT: Damn clever job, you know, quietly.... That was a rum touch, +finding that broken lipstick in the rubbish-heap.... You know, the fact +they still have no idea where this woman's head is---- + +OLIVIA (_convulsively_): Don't.... + +HUBERT: Sorry. + +OLIVIA (_after a pause_): It's a bit of a strain. + +HUBERT (_earnestly_): Then why don't you leave? + +OLIVIA: I--I couldn't afford it. + +HUBERT: But you _could_, if you married me! Now, look here---- +(_Going to her_) You said you'd tell me to-day. So here I am--er-- +popping the question again. There's nothing much to add, except to go +over the old ground again, and say that I'm not what you'd call a +terribly brainy chap, but I am straight. + +OLIVIA: Yes, I know. + +HUBERT: Though, again, I'm not the sort that gets into corners with a +pipe and never opens his mouth from one blessed year's end to the +other. I can talk. + +OLIVIA: Yes, you can. + +HUBERT: An all-round chap, really--that's me. + +OLIVIA: Yes. + +HUBERT: Well? + +OLIVIA: I'm sorry, Hubert, but I can't. + +HUBERT: You can't? But you told me that day we might make a go of it, +or words to that effect---- + +OLIVIA: I've thought it over since then, and I'm afraid I can't. + +_A pause._ + +HUBERT: What's changed you? + +OLIVIA: Nothing's changed me, Hubert. I've just thought the matter +over, that's all. + +_A pause. He crosses towards the fireplace._ + +HUBERT: Is it another man? + +OLIVIA (_startled_): Don't be silly. (_Collecting herself_) +What man could I possibly meet, cooped up here? + +HUBERT: Sorry. Can't be helped. Sorry. + +DAN (_in the garden_): There we are.--Nice outing, eh-- + +OLIVIA: So am I. + +_The front door opens and_ DAN _wheels in_ MRS. BRAMSON. +_He is as serene as ever, but more animated than before. He is +dressed the same as in the previous scene, and is smoking his usual +cigarette._ HUBERT _sits at the table._ + +DAN (_hanging up her rug in the hall_): Back home again.--I put +your gloves away---- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he wheels her in_): I feel dead. (_To_ +HUBERT) Oh, it's you.... I feel dead. + +DAN (_sitting beside her on the sofa, full of high spirits_): +Don't you be a silly old 'oman, you look as pretty as a picture-- +strawberries and cream in your face, and not a day over forty; and when +I've made you a nice cup of tea you'll be twenty-five in the sun and +eighteen with your back to the light, so you think yourself lucky! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he digs her in the side_): Oh, Danny, you are a +terror! (_To the others_) He's been at me like this all the way. I +must say it keeps me alive. + +DAN (_as she hands him her hat and cape_): But you feel dead. I +get you. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_kittenish_): Oh, you caution! You'll be the death +of me! + +DAN (_wagging his finger at her_): Ah-ha! (_Hanging up her +things in the hall_) Now what'd you like a drop of in your tea--gin, +whisky, liqueur, brandy, or a nice dollop of sailor's rum, eh? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Just listen to him! Now don't make me laugh, dear, +because there's always my heart. + +DAN (_sitting beside her again_): You've lost your heart, you know +you have, to the little feller that pushes your pram--you know you +have! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_laughing shrilly_): Pram! Well! (_Her laugh cut +short_) It's wicked to laugh, with this--this thing all round us. + +DAN (_sobering portentously_): I forgot. (_As she shivers_) +Not in a draught, are you? (_Shutting the front door and coming down +to_ HUBERT) D'you remember, Mr. Laurie, me pulling your leg about +you havin' done it? Funniest thing out!... Talk about laugh! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_fondly_): Tttt!... + +DAN (_a glint of mischief in his eyes_): I think I better get the +tea before I get into hot water. + +_He goes towards the kitchen._ + +OLIVIA: Mrs. Terence is getting the tea. + +DAN (_at the door_): She don't make tea like me. I'm an old +sailor, Miss Grayne. Don't you forget that. + +_He goes into the kitchen._ + +OLIVIA: I'm not interested, I'm afraid. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_wheeling herself to the front of the table_): Look +here, Olivia, you're downright rude to that boy, and if there's one +thing that never gets a woman anywhere, it's rudeness. What have you +got against him? + +HUBERT: Surely he's got more to say for himself to-day than when I met +him before? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, he's been in rare spirits all day. + +HUBERT: Johnny Walker, judging by the whiff of breath I got just now. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Meaning whisky? + +HUBERT: Yes. + +OLIVIA: I've never heard you make a joke before, Hubert. + +HUBERT: Didn't realise it was one till I'd said it. Sorry. + +MRS. BRAMSON: It's not a joke; it's a libel. + +_A knock at the front door._ + +Come in. + +NURSE LIBBY _enters from the front door._ + +The boy's a teetotaller. + +HUBERT: Sorry; my mistake. + +NURSE: Good afternoon. Shall I wait for you in your bedroom? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes. I feel absolutely dead. + +NURSE (_turning at the bedroom, eagerly_): Anything new _re_ +the murder? + +HUBERT: I believe her head was cut off at one stroke. + +NURSE (_brightly_): Oh, poor thing.... + +_She goes into the bedroom_. DAN _returns from the kitchen, +carrying a tray of tea and cakes._ + +DAN: There you are, fresh as a daisy.--Three lumps, as per usual, and +some of the cakes you like---- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he pours out her tea_): Thank you, dear.... Let +me smell your breath. (_After smelling it_) Clean as a whistle. +Smells of peppermints. + +OLIVIA: Yes. There were some in the kitchen. + +HUBERT: Oh. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ HUBERT, _as_ DAN _pours out two more +cups_): So you won't stay to tea, Mr.--er---- + +HUBERT: Er--(_rising_)--no, thank you.... + +_DAN sits in HUBERT's chair._ + +I think I'll get off before it's dark. Good-bye, Mrs. Bramson. Good-bye, +Mr.--er---- + +DAN (_grinning and saluting_): Dan. Just Dan. + +_He opens the press-cutting ledger._ + +HUBERT (_to OLIVIA_): Good-bye. + +OLIVIA (_rises_): Good-bye, Hubert. I'm sorry. + +DAN _raises his cup as if drinking a toast to_ MRS. BRAMSON. +_She follows suit._ + +HUBERT: Can't be helped.... It'll get dark early to-day, I think. Funny +how the evenings draw in this time of year. Good night. + +DAN: Good night. + +HUBERT (_to OLIVIA_): Good-bye. + +OLIVIA: Good-bye. + +_She goes to the right window-seat._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Johnny Walker, indeed! Impertinence! + +DAN (_drinking tea and scanning press-cuttings_): Johnny Walker? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Never you mind, dear.... Any more of those terrible +people called? Reporters? Police? + +DAN (_gaily_): There's a definite fallin' off in attendance to-day. +Sunday, I expect. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Hush, don't talk like that, dear. + +DAN: Sorry, mum. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And don't call me "mum"! + +DAN: Well, if I can't call you Mrs. Bramson, what can I call you? + +MRS. BRAMSON: If you were very good, I might let you call me ... +mother! + +DAN (_mischievously, his hand to his forehead_): O.K., mother. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_joining in his laughter_): Oh, you are in a mood +to-day! (_Suddenly, imperiously_) I want to be read to now. + +DAN (_crossing to the desk, in mock resignation_): Your servant, +mother o' mine.... What'll you have? _The Channings? The Red Court +Farm_? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'm tired of them. + +DAN: Well ... oh! (_Taking a large Bible from the top of the +desk_) What about the Bible? + +MRS. BRAMSON: The Bible? + +DAN: It's Sunday, you know. I was brought up on it! + +MRS. BRAMSON: So was I ... _East Lynne's_ nice, though. + +DAN: Not as nice as the Bible. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_doubtfully_): All right, dear; makes a nice +change.... Not that I don't often dip into it. + +DAN: I'm sure you do. (_Blowing the dust off the book_) Now +where'll I read? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_unenthusiastic_): At random's nice, don't you +think, dear? + +DAN: At random.... Yes.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: The Old Testament. + +DAN (_turning over leaves thoughtfully_): At random in the Old +Testament's a bit risky, don't you think so? + +MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_to MRS. BRAMSON_): The paperboy's at the back door +and says you're in the _News of the World_ again. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_interested_): Oh!... (_Simulating +indifference_) That horrible boy again, when the one thing I want is +to blot the whole thing out of my mind. + +MRS. TERENCE: 'Ow many copies d'you want? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Get three. + +MRS. TERENCE: _And_ 'e says there's a placard in Shepperley with +your name on it. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What does it say? + +MRS. TERENCE: "Mrs. Bramson Talks." + +_She goes back towards the kitchen._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh. (_As_ MRS. TERENCE _reaches the kitchen +door_) Go at once into Shepperley and order some. At once! + +MRS. TERENCE: Can't be done. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Can't be done? What d'you mean, can't be done? It's a +scandal. What are you paid for? + +MRS. TERENCE (_coming back, furious_): I'm not paid! And 'aven't +been for two weeks! And I'm not coming to-morrow unless I am! Put that +in your copybook and blot it. + +_She goes back into the kitchen, banging the door._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Isn't paid? Is she mad? (_To_ OLIVIA) Are you mad? +Why don't you pay her? + +OLIVIA (_coming down_): Because you don't give me the money to do +it with. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I--(_fumbling at her bodice_)--wheel me over to that +cupboard. + +OLIVIA _is about to do so, when she catches_ DAN'S _eye._ + +OLIVIA (_to_ DAN, _pointedly_): Perhaps you'd go into the +kitchen and get the paper from Mrs. Terence? + +DAN (_after a second's pause, with a laugh_): Of course I will, +madam! Anythin' you say! Anythin' you say! + +_He careers into the kitchen, still carrying the Bible._ MRS. +BRAMSON _has fished up two keys on the end of a long black tape._ +OLIVIA _wheels her over to the cupboard above the fireplace._ + +OLIVIA: If you give me the key, I'll get it for you. + +MRS. BRAMSON: No fear! _She unlocks the cupboard; it turns out to be +a small but very substantial safe. + +(Unlocking the safe, muttering to herself_) + +Won't go into Shepperley, indeed ... never heard of such +impertinence.... + +_She takes out a cash-box from among some deeds, unlocks it with the +smaller key, and takes out a mass of five-pound and pound notes._ + +The way these servants--what are you staring at? OLIVIA: Isn't it +rather a lot of money to have in the house? + +MRS. BRAMSON: "Put not your trust in banks" is my motto, and always +will be. + +OLIVIA: But that's hundreds of pounds! It---- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_handing her two notes_): D'you wonder I wouldn't +let you have the key? + +OLIVIA: Has ... anybody else asked you for it? + +MRS. BRAMSON (_locking the cash-box and putting it back in the +safe_): I wouldn't let a soul touch it. Not a soul. Not even Danny. + +_She snaps the safe, locks it, and slips the keys back into her +bosom._ + +OLIVIA: Has _he_ asked you for it? + +MRS. BRAMSON: It's enough to have those policemen prying, you forward +girl, without---- + +OLIVIA (_urgently_): Please! Has he? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, he did offer to fetch some money yesterday for the +dairy. But I wouldn't give him the key! Oh, no! + +OLIVIA: Why? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Do I want to see him waylaid and attacked, and my key +stolen? Oh, no, I told him, that key stays on me-- + +OLIVIA: Did he--know how much money there is in there? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I told him! Do you wonder I stick to the key, I said-- +what _is_ the matter with you, all these questions? + +OLIVIA: Oh, it's no use-- + +_She goes to the armchair below the fireplace and sits in it._ +DAN _returns from the kitchen, with a copy of the "News of the +World," the Bible tucked under his arm, a cigarette stub between his +lips._ + +DAN: He says they're sellin' like hot cakes! (_Handing the paper +to_ MRS. BRAMSON) There you are, I've found the place for you--whole +page, headlines an' all.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, yes.... + +DAN _stands with one knee on the sofa, and turns over the pages of +his Bible. + +(Reading breathlessly, her back to the fireplace_) + +"... The Victim's Past" ... with another picture of me underneath! +(_Looking closer, dashed_) Oh, taken at Tonbridge the year before +the war; really it isn't right.... (_To_ OLIVIA, _savouring +it_) "The Bungalow of Death!... Gruesome finds.... Fiendish murderer +still at large.... The enigma of the missing head ... where is it +buried?" ... Oh, yes! (_She goes on reading silently to herself._) + +DAN (_suddenly, in a clear voice_): "... Blessed is the man ... +that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly ... nor standeth in the +way of sinners ... nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful...." + +MRS. BRAMSON (_impatiently_): Oh, the print's too small.... + +DAN (_firmly_): Shall I read it to you? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear, do.... + +_He shuts the Bible with a bang, throws it on the sofa, and takes the +paper from her._ OLIVIA _watches him intently; he smiles at her +slowly and brazenly as he shakes out the paper._ + +DAN (_reading laboriously_): "... The murderer committed the crime +in the forest most--in the forest, most likely strippin' beforehand---" + +_DORA comes in from the kitchen, and stands at the door, arrested by +his reading. She is dressed, in Sunday best. + +(reading_) "... and cleansin' himself afterwards in the forest lake----" + +MRS. BRAMSON: Tch! tch! + +DAN (_reading_): "... He buried the body shallow in the open pit, +cunnin'ly chancin' it bein' filled, which it was next day, the +eleventh----" (_Nodding at_ OLIVIA) That was the day 'fore I come +here.... + +MRS. BRAMSON: So it was ... + +DAN (_reading_): "The body was nude. Attempts had been made to ... +turn to foot of next column...." (_Doing so_) "Attempts had been +made to ... era--eradicate fingerprints with a knife...." + +(_Far away, the tolling of village bells. Reading_) + +"... The head was severed by a skilled person, possibly a butcher. The +murderer--" (_He stops suddenly, raises his head, smiles, takes the +cigarette stub, puts it behind his ear, and listens._) + +OLIVIA: What's the matter? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Can you hear something? Oh, I'm scared.... + +DAN: I forgot it was Sunday.... They're goin' to church in the +villages. All got up in their Sunday best, with prayer-books, and the +organ playin', and the windows shinin'. Shinin' on holy things, because +holy things isn't afraid of the daylight. + +MRS. BRAMSON: But, Danny, what on earth are you-- + +DAN (_quelling her_): But all the time the daylight's movin' over +the floor, and by the end of the sermon the air in the church is +turnin' grey.... And people isn't able to think of holy things so much +no more, only of the terrible things that's goin' on outside, that +everybody's readin' about in the papers! (_Looking at_ OLIVIA) +Because they know that though it's still daylight, and everythin's +or'nary and quiet ... to-day will be the same as all the other days, +and come to an end, and it'll be night.... (_After a pause, coming to +earth again with a laugh at the others, throwing the newspaper on the +sofa_) I forgot it was Sunday! + +MRS. BRAMSON (_overawed_) Good gracious ... what's come over you, +Danny? + +DAN (_with exaggerated animation_): Oh, I speechify like anything +when I'm roused! I used to go to Sunday school, see, and the thoughts +sort of come into my head. Like as if I was readin' off a book! +(_Slapping his Bible_.) + +MRS. BRAMSON: Dear, dear.... You should have been a preacher. You +should! + +DAN _laughs loudly and opens the Bible_. + +DORA (_going to the table and collecting the tea-tray_): I never +knew 'e 'ad so many words in 'is 'ead.... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_suddenly_): I want to lie down now, and be +examined. + +DAN (_rising_): Anything you say, mother o' mine.... Will you have +your medicine in your room as well, eh? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear.... Olivia, you _never_ got a new bottle +yesterday! + +DAN (_as he wheels her into her bedroom_): I got it to-day while +you were with the chap.... Popped in at the chemist's. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, thank you, dear. The one by the mortuary?... Oh, my +back.... Nurse!... + +_Her voice is lost in the bedroom. The daylight begins to fade. The +church bells die away._ + +DORA: My sister says all this is wearin' me to a shadow. + +OLIVIA: It is trying, isn't it? + +DORA: You look that worried, too, Miss Grayne. + +OLIVIA: Do I? + +DORA: As if you was waiting for something to 'appen. + +OLIVIA: Oh? + +DORA: Like an explosion. A bomb, or something. + +OLIVIA (_smiling_): I don't think that's very likely.... +(_Lowering her voice_) Have you talked to Dan at all this week? + +DORA: Never get the chance. 'E's too busy dancin' attendance on Madame +Crocodile.... + +DAN _comes back from the bedroom, his cigarette stub between his +lips. + +(Going towards the kitchen_) I'm off. You don't catch me 'ere after +dark. + +DAN: Why, will ye be late for courting? + +DORA: If I was, they'd wait for me. Good afternoon, Miss Grayne. Good +afternoon ... _sir_. + +DAN (_winking at_ OLIVIA): Are you sure they'd wait? + +DORA: You ought to know. + +_She goes into the kitchen_. DAN _and_ OLIVIA _are +alone_. DAN _crosses to the sofa with a laugh, humming gaily_. + +DAN: "Their home addresses ... and their caresses ..." + +_He sits on the end of the sofa._ + +OLIVIA: You've been drinking, haven't you? + +DAN (_after a pause, quizzically_): You don't miss much, do you? + +OLIVIA (_significantly_): No. + +DAN (_rubbing his hands_): I've been drinking, and I feel fine! +... (_Brandishing the Bible_) You wouldn't like another dose of +reading? + +OLIVIA: I prefer talking. + +DAN (_putting down the Bible_): Carry on. + +OLIVIA: Asking questions. + +DAN (_catching her eye_): Carry on! + +_He studies his outspread hands_. + +OLIVIA (_crisply_): Are you sure you were ever a sailor? Are you +sure you weren't a butcher? + +_A pause. He looks at her, slowly, then breaks the look abruptly._ + +DAN (_rising with a smile and standing against the mantelpiece_): +Aw, talkin's daft! _Doin's_ the thing! + +OLIVIA: You can talk too. + +DAN: Aw, yes! D'you hear me just now? She's right, you know, I should +ha' been a preacher. I remember, when I was a kid, sittin' in Sunday +school--catching my mother's eye where she was sitting by the door, +with the sea behind her; and she pointed to the pulpit, and then to me, +as if to say, that's the place for you.... (_Far away, pensive_) I +never forgot that. + +_A pause_. + +OLIVIA: I don't believe a word of it. + +DAN: Neither do I, but it sounds wonderful. (_Leaning over her, +confidentially_) I never saw my mam, and I never had a dad, and the +first thing I remember is ... Cardiff Docks. And you're the first 'oman +I ever told that, so you can compliment yourself. Or the drink. +(_Laughing_) I think it's the drink. + +OLIVIA: You _do_ live in your imagination, don't you? + +DAN (_reassuringly_): Yes.... It's the only way to bear with the +awful things you have to do. + +OLIVIA: What awful things? + +DAN: Well ... (_Grinning like a child and going back to the +sofa_) Ah-ha!... I haven't had as much to drink as all that! +(_Sitting on the sofa_) Ah-ha!... + +OLIVIA: You haven't a very high opinion of women, have you? + +DAN _makes a gesture with his hands, pointing the thumbs downwards +with a decisive movement._ + +DAN: Women don't have to be drunk to talk.... You don't talk that much, +though; fair play. (_Looking her up and down, insolently_) You're +a dark horse, you are. + +_A pause. She rises abruptly and stands at the fireplace, her back to +him. She takes off her spectacles._ + +Ye know, this isn't the life for you. What is there to it? Tell me +that! + +OLIVIA (_sombrely_): What is there to it ...? + +DAN: Yes.... + +OLIVIA: Getting up at seven, mending my stockings or washing them, +having breakfast with a vixenish old woman and spending the rest of the +day with her, in a dreary house in the middle of a wood, and going to +bed at eleven.... I'm plain, I haven't got any money, I'm shy, and I +haven't got any friends. + +DAN (_teasing_): Don't you _like_ the old lady? + +OLIVIA: I could kill her. + +_A pause. She realises what she has said._ + +DAN (_with a laugh_): Oh, no, you couldn't!... Not many people +have it in them to kill people.... Oh, no! + +_She looks at him. A pause. He studies the palms of his hands, +chuckling to himself._ + +OLIVIA: And what was there to your life at the Tallboys? + +DAN: My life? Well.... The day don't start so good, with a lot of +stuck-up boots to clean, and a lot of silly high heels all along the +passage waitin' for a polish, and a lot of spoons to clean that's been +in the mouths of gapin' fools that looks through me as if I was a dirty +window hadn't been cleaned for years.... (_Throwing his stub into the +fire in a sudden crescendo of fury_) Orders, orders, orders; go +here, do this, don't do that, you idiot, open the door for me, get a +move on--I was never meant to take orders, never!... Down in the tea- +place there's an old white beard wigglin'. "Waiter, my tea's stone +cold." (_Furiously_) I'm not a waiter, I'm a millionaire, and +everybody's under me!... And just when I think I got a bit o' peace.... +(_His head in his hands_) ... there's somebody ... lockin' the +bedroom door ... (_raising his head_) ... won't let me get out; +talk, talk, talk, won't fork out with no more money, at me, at me, at +me, won't put no clothes on, calls me everythin', lie on the floor and +screams and screams, so nothin' keeps that mouth shut only ... (_A +pause._) It's rainin' out of the window, and the leaves is off the +trees ... oh, Lord ... I wish I could hear a bit o' music ... +(_smiling, slowly_) ... And I do, inside o' myself! And I have a +drop of drink ... and everything's fine (_Excited_) And when it's +the night ... + +OLIVIA (_with a cry_): Go on! + +_A pause. He realises she is there, and turns slowly and looks at +her._ + +DAN (_wagging his finger with a sly smile_): Aha! I'm too fly for +you! You'd like to know, wouldn't you? Aha! Why would you like to know? +(_Insistently, mischievously_) Why d'you lie awake ... all night? + +OLIVIA: Don't!... I'm frightened of you!... + +DAN (_triumphantly, rising and facing her, his back half to the +audience_): Why? + +OLIVIA (_desperate_): How do you know I lie awake at night? Shall +I tell you why? Because you're awake yourself! You can't sleep, can +you?... (_Triumphantly, in her turn_) You _can't sleep!_ There's +one thing that keeps you awake ... isn't there? One thing you've pushed +into the back of your mind, and you can't do any more about it, and you +never will.... And do you know what it is?... It's a little thing. A box. +Only a box. But it's ... rather heavy.... + +DAN _looks at her. A long pause. He jerks away with a laugh and sits +at the sofa again._ DAN (_quietly, prosaically_): The way you +was going through my letters the other day--that had to make me +smile.... _His voice dies away. Without warning, as if seeing +something in his mind which makes him lose control, he shrieks loudly, +clapping his hands over his eyes: then is silent. He recovers slowly +and stares at her. + +(After a pause, in a measured voice_) It's the only thing that keeps +me awake, mind you! The only thing! (_Earnestly_) But I don't know +what to do.... You see, nothing worries me, nothing in the world, only +... I don't like a pair of eyes staring at me ... (_his voice trailing +away_) ... with no look in them. I don't know what to do ... I don't +know ... + +_Without warning he bursts into tears. She sits beside him and seems +almost about to put her arms about him. He feels she is there, looks +into her eyes, grasps her arm, then pulls himself together abruptly. + +(Rising_) But it's the only thing! I live by myself ... (_clapping +his chest_) ... inside here--and all the rest of you can go hang! +_After_ I've made a use of you, though! Nothing's going to stop +me! I feel fine! I-- + +BELSIZE _crosses outside. A sharp knock at the front door. She half +rises. He motions her to sit again. + +(With his old swagger_) All right! Anybody's there, I'll deal with +'em--I'll manage myself all right! You watch me! + +_He goes to the front door and opens it._ + +BELSIZE (_at the door, jovially_): Hello, Dan! How's things? + +DAN (_letting him in and shutting the door_): Not so bad.... + +_He brings_ BELSIZE _into the room._ + +BELSIZE (_as OLIVIA goes_): Afternoon, Miss Grayne! + +OLIVIA (_putting on her spectacles_): How do you do.... + +_She makes an effort to compose herself and hurries across to the +sun-room._ BELSIZE'S _attitude is one of slightly exaggerated +breeziness:_ DAN'S _is one of cheerful naivete almost as limpid as +on his first appearance._ + +BELSIZE: Bearing up, eh? + +DAN: Yes, sir, bearin' up, you know.... + +BELSIZE: We haven't scared you all out of the house yet, I see! + +DAN: No chance! + +BELSIZE: All these blood-curdlers, eh? + +DAN: I should say so! + +BELSIZE: No more news for me, I suppose? + +DAN: No chance! + +BELSIZE: Ah ... too bad! Mind if I sit down? + +DAN: (_pointing to the sofa_): Well, this is the nearest you get +to comfort in this house, sir. + +BELSIZE: No, thanks, this'll do.... (_Sitting on a chair at the +table, and indicating the cuttings_) I see you keep apace of the +news? + +DAN: I should say so! They can't hardly wait for the latest on the +case in this house, sir. + +BELSIZE: Ah, well, it's only natural.... I got a bit of a funny feeling +bottom of my spine myself crossing by the rubbish-heap. + +DAN: Well, will you have a cigarette, sir?... (_His hand to his +jacket pocket_) Only a Woodbine---- + +BELSIZE: No, thanks. + +DAN (_after a pause_): Would you like to see Mrs. Bramson, sir? + +BELSIZE: Oh, plenty of time. How's she bearing up? + +DAN: Well, it's been a bit of a shock for her, them finding the remains +of the lady at the bottom of her garden, you know. + +BELSIZE: The remains of the lady! I wish you wouldn't talk like that. +I've seen 'em. + +DAN (_looking over his shoulder at the cuttings_): Well, you see, +I haven't. + +BELSIZE: You know, I don't mind telling you, they reckon the fellow +that did this job was a bloodstained clever chap. + +DAN (_smiling_): You don't say? + +BELSIZE (_casually_): He was blackmailing her, you know. + +DAN: Tch! tch! Was he? + +BELSIZE: Whoever he was. + +DAN: She had a lot of fellows on a string, though, didn't she? + +BELSIZE (_guardedly_): That's true. + +DAN: Though this one seems to have made a bit more stir than any of the +others, don't he? + +BELSIZE: Yes. (_Indicating the cuttings_) Regular film star. Made +his name. + +DAN (_abstractedly_): If you _can_ make your name withou +nobody knowin' what it is, o' course. + +BELSIZE (_slightly piqued_): Yes, of course.... But I don't reckon +he's been as bright as all that. + +DAN (_after a slight pause_): Oh, you don't? + +BELSIZE: No! They'll nab him in no time. + +DAN: Oh ... Mrs. Bramson'll be that relieved. And the whole country +besides.... + +BELSIZE: Look here, Dan, any self-respecting murderer would have taken +care to mutilate the body to such a degree that nobody could recognise +it--and here we come and identify it first go! (DAN _folds his arms +and looks thoughtful_.) Call that clever?... What d'you think? + +DAN _catches his eye and crosses to the sofa._ + +DAN: Well, sir, I'm a slow thinker, I am, but though it might be clever +to leave the lady unide--unide---- + +BELSIZE: Unidentified. + +DAN (_sitting on the edge of the sofa_): Thank you, sir.... +(_Laboriously_) Well, though it be clever to leave the lady +unidentified and not be caught ... hasn't it been more clever to leave +her _i_dentified ... and still not be caught? + +BELSIZE: Why didn't you sleep in your bed on the night of the tenth? + +_A pause._ DAN _stiffens almost imperceptibly._ + +DAN: What you say? + +BELSIZE: Why didn't you sleep in your bed on the night of the murder? + +DAN: I did. + +BELSIZE (_lighting his pipe_): You didn't. + +DAN: Yes I did. Oh--except for about half an hour--that's right. I +couldn't sleep for toffee and I went up the fire-escape--I remember +thinkin' about it next day when the woman was missing, and trying to +remember if I could think of anything funny---- + +BELSIZE: What time was that? (_He rises, crosses to the fireplace, +and throws his match into it._) + +DAN: Oh, about ... oh, you know how you wake up in the night and don't +know what time it is.... + +BELSIZE (_staring at him doubtfully_): Mmm ... + +DAN: I could never sleep when I was at sea, neither, sir. + +BELSIZE: Mmm. (_Suddenly_) Are you feeling hot? + +DAN: No. + +BELSIZE: Your shirt's wet through. + +DAN (_after a pause_): I've been sawin' some wood. + +BELSIZE: Why didn't you tell us you were having an affair with the +deceased woman? + +DAN: Affair? What's that? + +BELSIZE: Come along, old chap, I'll use a straighter word if it'll help +you. But you're stalling. She was seen by two of the maids talking to +you in the shrubbery. Well? + +_A pause._ DAN _bursts into tears, but with a difference. His +breakdown a few minutes ago was genuine; this is a good performance, +very slightly exaggerated._ BELSIZE _watches him dispassionately, +his brows knit._ + +DAN: Oh, sir ... it's been on my conscience ... ever since ... + +BELSIZE: So you did have an affair with her? + +DAN: Oh, no, sir, not that! I avoided her ever after that day she +stopped me, sir!... You see, sir, a lady stayin' where I was workin', +and for all I knew married, and all the other fellers she'd been after, +and the brazen way she went on at me.... You're only human, aren't you, +sir, and when they asked me about her, I got frightened to tell about +her stopping me.... But now you know about it, sir, it's a weight off +my mind, you wouldn't believe!... (_Rising, after seeming to pull +himself together_) As a matter of fact, sir, it was the disgust-like +of nearly gettin' mixed up with her that was keepin' me awake at +nights. + +BELSIZE: I see.... You're a bit of a milk-sop, aren't you? + +DAN (_apparently puzzled_): Am I, sir? + +BELSIZE: Yes.... That'll be all for to-day. I'll let you off this once. + +DAN: I'm that relieved, sir! + +BELSIZE (_crossing to the table for his hat_): But don't try and +keep things from the police another time. + +DAN: No chance! + +BELSIZE: They always find you out, you know. + +DAN: Yes, sir. Would you like a cup o' tea, sir? + +BELSIZE: No, thanks. I've got another inquiry in the village.... +(_Turning back, with an afterthought_) Oh, just one thing--might +as well just do it, we're supposed to with all the chaps we're +questioning, matter of form--if you don't mind. I'll have a quick look +through your luggage. Matter of form.... + +DAN: Oh, yes. + +BELSIZE: Where d' you hang out? + +DAN (_tonelessly_): Through the kitchen ... here, sir.... First +door facin' ... + +BELSIZE: First door facing---- + +DAN: You can't miss it. + +BELSIZE: I'll find it. + +DAN: It's open, I think. + +BELSIZE _goes into the kitchen. A pause,_ DAN _looks slowly +round the room. + +(Turning mechanically to the kitchen door_) You can't miss it.... + +_A pause. The noise of something being moved beyond the kitchen._ +Dan _sits on the sofa with a jerk, looking before him. His fingers +beat a rapid tattoo on the sides of the sofa. He looks at them, rises +convulsively and walks round the room, grasping chairs and furniture as +he goes round. He returns to the sofa, sits, and begins the tattoo +again. With a sudden wild automatic movement he beats his closed fists +in rapid succession against the sides of his head._ BELSIZE +_returns, carrying the hat-box._ + +BELSIZE (_crossing and placing the hat-box on the table_): This +one's locked. Have you got the key? + +DAN _rises, and takes a step into the middle of the room. He looks at +the hat-box at last._ + +DAN (_in a dead voice_): It isn't mine. + +BELSIZE: Not yours? + +DAN: No. + +BELSIZE: Oh?... Whose is it, then? + +DAN: I dunno. It isn't mine. + +OLIVIA _stands at the sun-room door._ + +OLIVIA: I'm sorry, I thought ... Why, inspector, what are you doing +with my box? + +BELSIZE: Yours? + +OLIVIA: Yes! It's got all my letters in it! + +BELSIZE: But it was in ... + +OLIVIA: Oh, Dan's room used to be the box-room. + +BELSIZE: Oh, I see.... + +OLIVIA: I'll keep it in my wardrobe; it'll be safer there.... _With +sudden feverish resolution, she picks up the box and carries it into +the kitchen._ DAN _looks the other way as she passes him._ + +BELSIZE: I'm very sorry, miss. (_Scratching his head_) I'm afraid +I've offended her.... + +DAN (_smiling_): She'll be all right, sir.... + +BELSIZE: Well, young feller, I'll be off. You might tell the old lady I +popped in, and hope she's better. + +DAN (_smiling and nodding_): Thank you, sir.... Good day, sir. + +BELSIZE: Good day. + +_He goes out through the front door into the twilight, closing it +behind him._ + +DAN: Good day sir.... + +_A pause,_ DAN _crumples to the floor in a dead faint._ + +QUICK CURTAIN + + + +ACT III + +SCENE 1 + +_Half an hour later. The light has waned; the fire is lit and throws +a red reflection into the room._ DAN _is lying on the sofa, eyes +closed._ NURSE LIBBY _sits at the end of the sofa holding his +pulse._ MRS. TERENCE _stands behind the sofa with a toby jug of +water._ + +NURSE: There, lovey, you won't be long now.... Ever so much steadier +already.... What a bit o' luck me blowin' in to-day!... Tt! tt! Pouring +with sweat, the lad is. Whatever's he been up to? + +MRS. TERENCE: When I walked in that door and saw 'im lyin' full stretch +on that floor everything went topsy-wopsy. (_Pressing the jug to_ +DAN'S _lips_) It did! The room went round and round.... + +NURSE:(_as_ DAN _splutters_): Don't choke 'im, there's a +love.... + +MRS. TERENCE: D'you know what I said to meself when I saw 'im lyin' +there? + +NURSE: What? + +MRS. TERENCE: I said, "That murderer's been at 'im," I said, "and it's +the next victim." I did! + +NURSE: So you would! Just like the pictures.... 'Old your 'ead up, +love. + +MRS. TERENCE (_as_ NURSE LIBBY _supports_ DAN'S _head_): +Got a _nice_ face, 'asn't he? + +NURSE: Oh, yes!... (As DAN'S eyes flicker) Shh, he's coming to.... DAN +_opens his eyes and looks at her._ + +Welcome back to the land of the living! + +MRS. TERENCE: Thought the murderer'd got you! _A pause._ DAN +_stares, then sits up abruptly._ + +DAN: How long I been like that? + +NURSE: We picked you up ten minutes ago, and I'd say it was twenty +minutes before that, roughly-like, that you passed away. + +MRS. TERENCE: Passed away, don't frighten the boy!... Whatever come +over you, dear? + +DAN: I dunno. Felt sick, I think. (_Recovering himself_) Say no +more about it, eh? Don't like swinging the lead.... (_His head in his +hand._) + +MRS. TERENCE: Waiting 'and and foot on Madame Crocodile, enough to wear +King Kong out.... + +NURSE: That's better, eh? + +DAN: Is it really getting dark? + +MRS. TERENCE: It's a scandal the way the days are drawin' in.... 'Ave +another sip---- + +DAN (_as she makes to give him more water, to_ NURSE LIBBY): You +haven't such a thing as a nip of brandy? + +NURSE (_opening her bag_): Yes, lovey, I nearly gave you a drop +just now--- + +DAN _takes a flask from her and gulps; he takes a second mouthful. He +gives it back, shakes himself, and looks before him._ + +MRS. TERENCE: Better? + +DAN: Yes.... Clears the brain no end.... Makes you understand +better.... (_His voice growing in vehemence_) Makes you see what a +damn silly thing it is to get the wind up about anything. _Do_ +things! Get a move on! Show 'em what you're made of! Get a move on!... +Fainting, indeed.... Proper girl's trick, I'm ashamed of myself.... +(_Looking round, quietly_) The light's going.... The daytime's as +if it's never been; it's dead.... (_Seeing the others stare, with a +laugh_) Daft, isn't it? + +DORA _brings in an oil lamp from the kitchen; she is wearing her +outdoor clothes. She crosses to the table, strikes a match with her +back to the audience and lights the lamp, then the wall lamp. The +twilight is dispelled._ + +NURSE (_shutting her bag, rising_): You'll be all right; a bit +light-headed after the fall, I expect. (_Going to the hall_) Well, +got an abscess the other side of Turneyfield, _and_ a slow +puncture. So long, lovey. + +DAN (_sitting up_): So long! + +NURSE: Be good, all! + +_She bustles out of the front door. A pause._ DAN _sits looking +before him, drumming his fingers on the sofa._ + +DORA (_closing the right window-curtains_): What's the matter with +him? + +MRS. TERENCE: Conked out. + +DORA: Conked out? Oh, dear.... D'you think 'e see'd something? I'll +tell you what it is! + +MRS. TERENCE (_closing the left window-curtains_): What? + +DORA: The monster's lurking again. + +_Mechanically_ DAN _takes a box of matches and a cigarette from +his pocket._ + +MRS. TERENCE: I'll give you lurk, my girl, look at the egg on my toby! +Why don't you learn to wash up, instead of walkin' about talking like +three-halfpennyworth of trash? + +DORA: I can't wash up properly in that kitchen, with that light. Them +little oil lamps isn't any good except to set the place on fire. + +_She goes into the kitchen._ DAN _drums his fingers on the +sofa._ MRS. BRAMSON _wheels herself from the bedroom._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: I dropped off. Why didn't somebody wake me? Have I been +missing something? + +MRS. TERENCE: That Inspector Belsize called. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_testily_): Then why didn't somebody wake me? Dan, +what did he want? + +DAN: Just a friendly call. + +MRS. BRAMSON: You seem very far away, dear. What's the matter with +you?... Dan! + +DAN: Bit of an 'eadache, that's all. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Doesn't make you deaf, though, dear, does it? + +MRS. TERENCE: Now, now, turnin' against the apple of your eye; can't +'ave that goin' on---- + +_A sharp knock at the front door._ DAN _starts up and goes +towards the hall._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ MRS. TERENCE): See who it is. + +MRS. TERENCE (_at the front door, as_ DAN _is about to push past +her_): Oh ... it's only the paraffin boy.... (_To the boy outside, +taking a can from him_) And you bring stuff on a Saturday night +another time. + +DAN _is standing behind_ MRS. BRAMSON'S _chair._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: I should think so----MRS. TERENCE _comes into the +room._ DAN _strikes a match for his cigarette._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_with a cry_): Oh! Can't you see this is paraffin? +(_She puts the can on the floor just inside the hall._) + +MRS. BRAMSON: You went through my side like a knife---- + +MRS. TERENCE: If people knew what to do with their money, they'd put +electric light in their 'omes 'stead of dangerin' people's lives. + +_She goes into the kitchen._ DAN _stares before him, the match +flickering._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_blowing out the match_): You'll burn your fingers! +Set yourself on fire! Absent-minded!... I woke up all of a cold shiver. +Had a terrible dream. + +DAN (_mechanically_): What about? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Horrors.... I'm freezing. Get me my shawl off my bed, +will you, dear?... (_As he does not move_) My shawl, dear! DAN +_starts, collects himself and smiles his most ingratiating smile._ + +DAN: I am sorry, mum. In the Land of Nod, I was! Let me see, what was +it your highness was after? A shawl? No sooner said than done.... You +watch me! One, two, three! + +_He runs into the bedroom._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Silly boy ... silly boy.... + +OLIVIA _comes in quickly from the kitchen. She is dressed to go out +and carries a suitcase._ Where are you off to? + +OLIVIA: I--I've had a telegram. A friend of mine in London's very ill. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with her? + +OLIVIA: Pneumonia. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Where's the telegram? + +OLIVIA: I--I threw it away. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Where d'you throw it? + +OLIVIA: I--I---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: You haven't had any telegram. + +OLIVIA (_impatiently_): No, I haven't! + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with you? + +OLIVIA: I can't stay in this house to-night. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Why not? + +OLIVIA: I'm frightened. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, don't be---- + +OLIVIA: Listen to me. I've never known before what it was to be +terrified. But when I saw today beginning to end, and to-night getting +nearer and nearer ... I felt my finger-tips getting cold. And I knew it +was fright ... stark fright. I'm not a fool, and I'm not hysterical ... +but I've been sitting in my room looking at myself in the glass, trying +to control myself, telling myself what are real things ... and what +aren't. I don't know any longer. The day's over. The forest's all round +us. Anything may happen.... You shouldn't stay in this house to-night. +That's all. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_blustering_): It's very silly of you, trying to +scare an old woman with a weak heart. What have you got to be +frightened of? + +OLIVIA: There's been a murder, you know. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Nobody's going to murder _you_! Besides, we've got +Danny to look after us. He's as strong as an ox, and no silly nerves +about him.... What _is_ it you're afraid of? + +OLIVIA: I-- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Sly, aren't you?... Where are you staying to-night? + +OLIVIA: In Langbury, with Hubert Laurie and his sister. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Not too frightened to make arrangements with _him_, +eh? + +OLIVIA: Arrangements? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Well, some people would call it something else. + +OLIVIA (_losing her temper_): Oh, won't you see ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'm very annoyed with you. How are you going to get +there? + +OLIVIA: Walking. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Through the forest? Not too frightened for that, I see. + +OLIVIA: I'd rather spend to-night in the forest than in this house. + +MRS. BRAMSON: That sounds convincing, I must say. Well, you can go, but +when you come back, I'm not so sure I shall answer the door. Think that +over in the morning. + +OLIVIA: The morning?... + +DAN'S VOICE (_in the bedroom, singing_): "... their home addresses +... and their caresses ... linger in my memory of those beautiful +dames ..." + +OLIVIA _listens, holding her breath; she tries to say something +to_ MRS. BRAMSON, _and fails. She makes an effort, and runs out of +the front door. It bangs behind her._ DAN _comes back from the +bedroom, carrying a shawl._ + +DAN (_over-casual_): What was that at the door? + +MRS. BRAMSON: My niece. Gone for the night, if you please. + +DAN: Gone ... for the night? (_He stares before him._) + +MRS. BRAMSON: Would you believe it? Says she's frightened.... + +_A pause._ + +Come along with the shawl, dear. I'm freezing.... + +DAN (_with a laugh, putting the shawl round her_): Don't know +what's up with me-- + +_He goes to the table and looks at a newspaper._ MRS. TERENCE +_comes in from the kitchen, her coat on._ + +MRS. TERENCE: Well, I must go on me way rejoicin'. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Everybody seems to be going. What is all this? + +MRS. TERENCE: What d'you want for lunch tomorrow? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Lunch to-morrow?... Let me see.... + +DAN: Lunch? To-morrow?... (_After a pause_) What about a nice +little steak? + +MRS. BRAMSON: A steak, let me see.... Yes, with baked potatoes-- + +DAN: And a nice roly-poly puddin', the kind you like? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I think so. + +MRS. TERENCE: Something light. O.K. Good night. + +_She goes back into the kitchen._ DAN _scans the newspaper +casually._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_inquisitive_): What are you reading, dear? + +DAN (_breezily_): Only the murder again. About the clues that +wasn't any good. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_suddenly_): Danny, _d'you_ think Olivia's a +thief? + +DAN: Shouldn't be surprised. + +MRS. BRAMSON: What! + +DAN: Her eyes wasn't very wide apart. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_working herself up_): Goodness me ... my +jewel-box ... what a fool I was to let her go--my earrings ... the +double-faced-- + +_She wheels herself furiously into her bedroom._ DORA, _her hat +and coat on, comes in from the kitchen in time to see her go._ + +DORA: What's up with her? + +DAN (_still at his paper_): Thinks she's been robbed. + +DORA: Oh, is that all.... That's the fourth time this month she's +thought that. One of these days something _will_ 'appen to her, +and will I be pleased? Oh, baby!... Where's Mrs. Terence? + +DAN: Gone, I think. + +DORA (_frightened_): Oh, law, no! (_Calling_) Mrs. Terence! + +MRS. TERENCE (_calling, in the kitchen_): Ye-es! + +DORA: You 'aven't gone without me, 'ave you? + +MRS. TERENCE (_appearing at the kitchen door, spearing a hatpin into +her hat_): Yes, I'm 'alf-way there. What d'you think? + +DORA: You did give me a turn! (_Going to the table and taking the +box_) I think I'll 'ave a choc. (_Walking towards the hall_) I +couldn't 'ave walked a step in those trees all by myself. Coming? + +DAN (_suddenly_): I'd have come with you with pleasure, only I'm +going the other direction. Payley Hill way. + +MRS. TERENCE (_surprised_): _You_ going out? + +DORA: Oh? + +DAN (_in the hall, putting on hat and mackintosh_): Yes. I still +feel a bit funny. + +MRS. TERENCE: But you can't leave 'er 'ere by herself! + +DORA: She'll scream the place down! + +DAN (_over-explanatory_): I asked her, this very minute, and she +don't seem to mind. You know what she is. Said it'd do me good, and +won't hear of me stayin'. It's no good arguin' with her. + +DORA _puts the chocolates down on the occasional table. She and_ +MRS. TERENCE _follow_ DAN _into the hall._ + +DORA: No good arguin' with her--don't I know it! + +MRS. TERENCE: You 'ave a nice long walk while you get the chance; you +wait on 'er too much.... (_Closing the plush curtains so that they +are all out of sight_) Ooh, ain't it dark.... Got the torch, Dora? + +DORA: O.K., honey. + +MRS. TERENCE: Laws, I'd be frightened goin' off by meself.... Well, +we'd best 'urry, Dora.... Good night, Dan. Pity you aren't comin' our +way---DAN'S VOICE: See you in the morning! Good night! + +DORA'S VOICE: O.K.!... Toodle-oo! + +_The door bangs. A pause._ + +DAN'S VOICE (_outside the left window_): Good night! + +MRS. TERENCE'S VOICE (_outside the right window_): Good night! + +DORA (_same_): Good night! + +_Silence._ + +MRS. TERENCE (_farther away_): Good night! + +DORA (_same_): Good night! + +MRS. BRAMSON _comes trundling back from the bedroom in her chair._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Good night here, good night there; anybody'd think it was +the night before Judgment Day. What's the matter with ... (_Seeing +the room is empty_) Talking to myself. Wish people wouldn't walk out +of rooms and leave me high and dry. Don't like it. (_She wheels +herself round to the table. A pause. She looks round impatiently._) +Where's my chocolates?... + +_She looks round again, gets up out of her chair for the first time +in the play, walks quite normally across the room to the mantelpiece, +sees her chocolates are not there, walks up to the occasional table, +and takes up the box._ + +That girl's been at them again.... + +_She walks back to her chair, carrying the chocolates, and sits in it +again. She begins to munch. She suddenly stops, as if she has heard +something._ + +What's that?... + +_She listens again. A cry is heard far away._ + +Oh, God ... Danny! + +_The cry is repeated._ + +Danny! + +_The cry is heard a third time._ + +It's an owl ... Oh, Lord! + +_She falls back in relief, and eats another chocolate. The clock +strikes the half-hour. Silence. The silence gets on her nerves. + +(After a pause, calling softly_) Danny!... (_As there is no +answer_) What's the boy doing in that kitchen? + +_She takes up the newspaper, sees a headline, and puts it down +hastily. She sees the Bible on the table, opens it, and turns over +pages. + +(After a pause, suddenly_) I've got the jitters. I've got the +jitters. I've got the jitters.... (_Calling loudly_) Danny! + +_She waits; there is complete silence. She rises, walks over to the +kitchen door, and flings it wide open. + +(Shouting_) Danny! (_No reply._) He's gone ... They've all gone +... They've left me ... (_Losing control, beating her hands wildly on +her Bible_) Oh, Lord, help a poor old woman ... They've left me! +(_Tottering to the sun-room_) Danny ... where are you?... Danny +... I'm going to be murdered ... I'm going to be murdered!... Danny ... +(_Her voice rising, until she is shrieking hysterically_) Danny! +Danny! Danny! + +_She stops suddenly. Footsteps on the gravel outside the front door. + +(In a strangled whisper_) There's something outside ... something +outside ... Oh, heavens ... + +(_Staggering across to the sofa_) Danny, where are you? Where are +you? There's something outs-- + +_The front door bangs. She collapses on the sofa, terrified, her +enormous Bible clasped to her breast._ + +Oh, Lord, help me ... help me ... Oh, Lord, help me ... (_Muttering, +her eyes closed_) ... Forgive us our trespasses ... + +_The curtains are suddenly parted. It is_ DAN, _a cigarette +between his lips. He stands motionless, his feet planted apart, holding +the curtains. There is murder in his face. She is afraid to look, but +is forced to at last._ + +Danny ... Oh ... Oh ... + +DAN (_smiling, suddenly normal and reassuring_): That's all right +... It's only Danny ... + +MRS. BRAMSON: Thank God ... (_Going off into laughing hysterics_) +Ah ... ah ... ah ... + +DAN _throws his cigarette away, lays his hat on the occasional table, +throws his mackintosh on the left window-seat, and sits beside her, +patting her, looking round to see no one has heard her cries._ + +I'll never forgive you, never. Oh, my heart ... Oh--oh--oh--- + +_He runs across to the medicine cupboard and brings back a brandy +bottle and two glasses._ + +DAN: Now have a drop of this ... (_As she winces at the taste_) Go +on, do you good ... (_As she drinks_) I am sorry, I am really ... +You see, they wanted me to see them to the main path, past the rubbish- +heap, see, in case they was frightened. ... Now that's better, isn't +it? + +_They are seated side by side on the sofa._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: I don't know yet ... Give me some more.... + +_He pours one out for her, and for himself. They drink._ + +All alone, I was ... (_Her face puckering with self pity_) Just an +old woman calling for help ... (_her voice breaking_) ... and no +answer.... + +DAN (_putting the bottle on the floor beside him_): Poor old mum, +runnin' about lookin' for Danny---- + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): I wasn't running about as much as all +that ... Oh, the relief when I saw your face---- + +DAN: I bet you wasn't half glad, eh? + +MRS. BRAMSON: You're the only one that understands me, Danny, that's +what you are---- + +DAN (_patting her_): That's right---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: I don't have to tell you everything I've been through. I +don't have to tell you about my husband, how unkind and ungodly he +was--I wouldn't have minded so much him being ungodly, but oh, he +_was_ unkind ... (_Sipping_) And I don't have to tell _you_ how +unkind he was. You know. You just know ... whatever else I've not +been, I was _always_ a great one on psychology. + +DAN: You was. (_He takes her glass and fills it again and his +own._) + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'm glad those other people have gone. Awful screeching +common women. Answer back, answer back, answer back.... Isn't it time +for my medicine? + +_He hands her glass back. They both drink._ DAN _sits smiling +and nodding at her._ + +That day you said to me about me reminding you of your mother.... (DAN +_slowly begins to roll up his sleeves a little way._) These poets +and rubbishy people can think all they like about their verses and +sonnets and such--that girl Olivia writes sonnets--would you believe +it-- + +DAN: Fancy. + +MRS. BRAMSON: They can think all they like, that was a beautiful +thought. (_Her arm on his shoulder_) And when you think you're +just an ignorant boy, it's ... it's startling. + +DAN (_with a loud laugh_): That's right. + +MRS. BRAMSON: I'll never forget that. Not as long as I live ... +(_Trying to stem her tears_) I want a chocolate now. + +DAN: Right you are!... (_Placing her glass and his own on the floor, +and walking briskly to the table_) A nice one with a soft centre, +the kind you like.... Why, here's one straight away.... (_He walks +slowly to the back of the sofa. In a level voice_) Now shut your +eyes ... open your mouth ... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_purring_): Oh, Danny.... You're the only one ... + +_She shuts her eyes. He stands behind her, and puts the chocolate +into her mouth. His fingers close slowly and involuntarily over her +neck: she feels his touch, and draws both his hands down, giggling, so +that his face almost touches hers._ + +(_Maudlin_) What strong hands they are.... You're a pet, my little +chubby-face, my baby-face, my Danny.... Am I in a draught? + +_A pause._ DAN _draws his hands slowly away, walks to the back, +and shuts the plush curtains._ + +I've got to take care of myself, haven't I? + +DAN (_turning slowly and looking at her_): You have. + +_He picks up the paraffin can briskly and goes towards the +kitchen._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: What are you-- + +DAN: Only takin' the paraffin tin in the kitchen. + +_He goes into the kitchen._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_half to herself_): That girl should have carried it +in. Anything to annoy me. Tomorrow--(_Turning and seeing that he is +gone_) Danny! (_Shrieking suddenly_) Danny! + +DAN _runs back from the kitchen._ + +DAN: What's the matter? + +_He looks hastily towards the hall to see no one has heard._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, dear, I thought-- + +DAN (_sitting on the back of the sofa_): I was only putting the +paraffin away. Now--(_He leans over the sofa, and raises his arm +slowly._) + +MRS. BRAMSON (_putting her hand on his arm_): I think I'll go to +bed now. + +DAN (_after a pause, dropping his arm_): O.K. + +MRS. BRAMSON: And I'll have my supper-tray in my room. +(_Petulantly_) Get me back into my chair, dear, will you? + +DAN (_jerkily_): O.K.... + +_He crosses to the invalid-chair._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: Has she put the glass by the bed for my teeth? + +DAN (_bringing over the chair_): I put it there myself. + +_He helps her into the chair and pulls it over towards the +bedroom._ + +MRS. BRAMSON (_suddenly, in the middle of the room_): I want to be +read to now. + +DAN (_after a pause of indecision_): O.K. (_Clapping his hands +effusively_) What'll you have? The old _East Lynne_? + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, I don't feel like anything sentimental to-night.... + +DAN (_looking towards the desk_): What'll you have, then? + +MRS. BRAMSON: I think I'd like the Bible. + +_A pause. He looks at her._ + +DAN: O.K. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_as he goes smartly to the sofa, fetches the Bible, +pulls up a chair to the right of her, sits, and looks for the +place_): That piece you were reading.... It's Sunday.... Isn't that +nice ... all the aches and pains quiet for once ... pretty peaceful.... + +DAN (_reading_): "Blessed is the man that walketh not in the +counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth +in the seat of the scornful...." + +MRS. BRAMSON (_drowsily_): You read so nicely, Danny. + +DAN: Very kind of you, my lady. (_Reading a little breathlessly_) +"But his delight is in the Law of the Lord; and in His law doth he +meditate day and night--" + +MRS. BRAMSON: Sh! + +DAN: What? + +MRS. BRAMSON: What's that? + +DAN: Can you hear something? + +MRS. BRAMSON: Yes! A sort of--thumping noise.... + +_She looks at him suddenly, leans forward, and puts her right hand +inside his jacket._ + +Why, Danny, it's you! It's your heart ... beating! + +_He laughs_. + +Well! Are you all right, dear? + +DAN: Fine. I been running along the path, see.... (_Garrulously_) +I been out of training, I suppose; when I was at sea I never missed a +day running round the decks, o' course.... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_sleepily_): Of course. + +DAN (_speaking quickly, as if eager to conjure up a vision_): I +remember those mornings--on some sea--very misty pale it is, with the +sun like breathing silver where he's comin' up across the water, but +not blowing on the sea at all ... and the sea-gulls standing on the +deck-rail looking at themselves in the water on the deck, and only me +about and nothing else ... + +MRS. BRAMSON (_nodding sleepily_): Yes ... + +DAN: And the sun. Just me and the sun. + +MRS. BRAMSON (_nodding_): There's no sun now, dear; it's night! + +_A pause. He drums his fingers on the Bible._ + +DAN: Yes ... it's night now. (_Reading, feverishly_) "The ungodly +are not so, but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away----" + +MRS. BRAMSON: I think I'll go to bye-byes.... We'll have the rest +to-morrow, shall we? (_Testily_) Help me, dear, help me, you know +what I am---- + +DAN (_drumming his fingers: suddenly, urgently_): Wait a minute ... +I--I've only got two more verses---- + +MRS. BRAMSON: Hurry it up, dear. I don't want to wake up in the morning +with a nasty cold. + +DAN (_reading slowly_): "... Therefore the ungodly shall not stand +in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.... +For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous ... But the way of the +ungodly ... shall perish ..." + +_A pause. He shuts the Bible loudly, and lays it on the table._ +MRS. BRAMSON _can hardly keep awake._ + +That's the end. + +MRS. BRAMSON: Is it?... Ah, well, it's been a long day---- + +DAN: Are you quite comfortable? + +MRS. BRAMSON: A bit achy. Glad to get to bed. Hope that woman's put my +bottle in all right. Bet she hasn't---- + +DAN: Sure you're comfortable? Wouldn't you like a cushion back of your +head? + +MRS. BRAMSON: No, dear, just wheel me---- + +DAN (_rising_): I think you'll be more comfortable with a cushion. +(_Rising, humming_) "I'm a pretty little feller, everybody knows ... +dunno what to call me ..." + +_He goes deliberately across, humming, and picks up a large black +cushion from the sofa. His hands close on the cushion, and he stands +silent a moment. He moves slowly back to the other side of her; he +stands looking at her, his back three-quarters to the audience and his +face hidden: he is holding the cushion in both hands._ + +MRS. BRAMSON _shakes herself out of sleep and looks at him._ + +MRS. BRAMSON: What a funny look on your face, dear. Smiling like +that.... (_Foolishly_) You look so kind ... + +_He begins to raise the cushion slowly._ + +So kind ... (_Absently_) What are you going to do with that +cushion?... + +_The lights dim gradually into complete darkness, and the music grows +into a thunderous crescendo._ + + + +SCENE II + +_The music plays a few bars, then dies down proportionately as the +lights come up again. + +Half an hour later. The scene is the same, with the same lighting; the +room is empty and the wheel-chair has been removed._ + +DAN _comes in from the sun-room, smoking the stub of a cigarette. He +crosses smartly, takes the bottle and glasses from the floor by the +sofa and places them on the table, pours himself a quick drink, places +the bottle on the floor next the desk, throws away his stub, takes +another cigarette from his pocket, puts it in his mouth, takes out a +box of matches, and lights a match. The clock chimes. He looks at it, +seems to make a decision, blows out the match, throws the matchbox on +the table, takes_ MRS. BRAMSON'S _tape and keys from his trouser +pocket, crosses quickly to the safe by the fireplace, opens it, takes +out the cash-box, sits on the sofa, unlocks the cash-box, stuffs the +keys back into his trousers, opens the cash-box, takes out the notes, +looks at them, delighted, stuffs them into his pocket, hurries into the +sun-room, returns a second later with the empty invalid chair, plants +it in the middle of the room, picks up the cushion from the floor above +the table, looks at it a moment, arrested, throws it callously on the +invalid chair, hurries into the kitchen, returns immediately with the +paraffin, sprinkles it freely over the invalid chair, places the can +under the table, lifts the paraffin lamp from the table, and is just +about to smash it over the invalid chair when there is the sound of a +chair falling over in the sun-room. His face inscrutable, he looks +towards it. He carries the lamp stealthily to the desk, puts it down, +looks round, picks a chair from near the table, and stands at the +sun-room door with the chair held high above his head. + +The stagger of footsteps;_ OLIVIA _stands in the doorway to the +sun-room. She has been running through the forest; her clothes are +wild, her hair has fallen about her shoulders, and she is no longer +wearing her spectacles. She looks nearly beautiful. Her manner is +quiet, almost dazed. He lowers the chair slowly and sits on the other +side of the table. A pause._ + +OLIVIA: I've never seen a dead body before.... I climbed through the +window and nearly fell over it. Like a sack of potatoes, or something. +I thought it was, at first.... And that's murder. + +_As he looks up at her._ + +But it's so ordinary.... I came back ... + +_As he lights his cigarette._ + +... expecting ... ha (_laughing hysterically_) ... I don't know +... and here I find you, smoking a cigarette ... you might have been +tidying the room for the night. It's so ... ordinary.... (_After a +pause, with a cry_) Why don't you _say_ something! + +DAN: I thought you were goin' to stay the night at that feller's. + +OLIVIA: I was. + +DAN: What d'you come back for? + +OLIVIA (_the words pouring out_): To find you out. You've kept me +guessing for a fortnight. Guessing hard. I very nearly knew, all the +time. But not quite. And now I do know. + +DAN: Why was you so keen on finding me out? + +OLIVIA (_vehemently, coming to the table_): In the same way any +sane, decent-minded human being would want--would want to have you +arrested for the monster you are! + +DAN (_quietly_): What d'you come back for? + +OLIVIA: I ... I've told you.... + +_He smiles at her slowly and shakes his head. She sits at the table +and closes her eyes._ + +I got as far as the edge of the wood. I could see the lights in the +village.... I came back. + +_She buries her head in her arms._ DAN _rises, looks at her a +moment regretfully, puts away his cigarette, and stands with both hands +over the invalid chair._ + +DAN (_casually_): She didn't keep any money anywhere else, did +she? + +OLIVIA: I've read a lot about evil---- + +DAN _realises his hands are wet with paraffin and wipes them on his +trousers._ + +DAN: Clumsy.... + +OLIVIA: I never expected to come across it in real life. + +DAN (_lightly_): You didn't ought to read so much. I never got +through a book yet.... But I'll read you all right.... (_Crossing to +her, leaning over the table, and smiling at her intently_) You +haven't had a drop to drink, and yet you feel as if you had. You never +knew there was such a secret part inside of you. All that book-learnin' +and moral-me-eye here and social-me-eye there--you took that off on the +edge of the wood same as if it was an overcoat ... and you left it +there! + +OLIVIA: I hate you. I ... hate you! + +DAN (_urgently_): And same as anybody out for the first time +without their overcoats, you feel as light as air! Same as I feel, +sometimes--only I never had no overcoat--(_Excited_) Why--this is +my big chance! You're the one I can tell about meself! Oh, I'm sick o' +hearin' how clever everybody else is--I want to tell 'em how clever +_I_ am for a change!... Money I'm goin' to have, and people doin' +what they're told, and _me_ tellin' them to do it! There was a +'oman at the Tallboys, wasn't there? She wouldn't be told, would she? +She thought she was up 'gainst a soft fellow in a uniform, didn't she? +She never knew it was _me_ she was dealin' with--(_striking his +chest in a paroxysm of elation_)--_me!_ And this old girl +treatin' me like a son 'cause I made her think she was a chronic +invalid--ha! She's been more use to me to-night (_tapping the notes +in his jacket pocket, smartly_) than she has to any other body all +her life. Stupid, that's what people are ... stupid. If those two +hadna' been stupid they might be breathin' now; you're not stupid; +that's why I'm talkin' to you. (_With exaggerated self-possession_) +You said just now murder's ordinary.... Well, it isn't ordinary at all, see? +And I'm not an ordinary chap. There's one big difference 'tween me and +other fellows that try this game. I'll _never be found out_. 'Cause I +don't care a----(_Snapping his fingers grandly_) The world's goin' to +hear from me. That's me. (_Chuckling_) You wait.... (_After a +pause_) But you can't wait, can you? + +OLIVIA: What do you mean? + +DAN: Well, when I say I'll never be found out, what I mean is, no +living soul will be able to tell any other living soul about me. +(_Beginning to roll up a sleeve, nonchalantly_) Can you think of +anybody ... who can go to-morrow ... and tell the police the fire at +Forest Corner ... wasn't an accident at all? + +OLIVIA: I--I can. + +DAN: Oh, no, you can't. + +OLIVIA: Why can't I? + +DAN: Well, I'm up against a very serious problem, I am. But the answer +to it is as simple as pie, to a feller like me, simple as pie ... +(_Rolling up the other sleeve a little way_) She isn't going to be +the only one ... found to-morrow ... in the fire at Forest Corner.... +(_After a pause_) Aren't you frightened? You ought to be! +(_Smiling_) Don't you think I'll do it? + +OLIVIA: I know you will. I just can't realise it. + +DAN: You know, when I told you all that about meself just now, I'd made +up my mind then about you. (_Moving slowly after her, round the +table, as she steps back towards the window._) That's what I am, +see? I make up me mind to do a thing, and I do it.... You remember that +first day when I come in here? I said to meself then, There's a girl +that's got her wits about her; she knows a thing or two; different from +the others. I was right, wasn't I? You----(_Stopping abruptly, and +looking round the room_) What's that light in here? + +OLIVIA: What light? + +DAN: There's somebody in this room's holdin' a flashlight. + +OLIVIA: It can't be in this room.... It must be a light in the wood. + +DAN: It can't be. + +_A flashlight crosses the window-curtains._ OLIVIA _turns and +stares at it._ + +OLIVIA: Somebody's watching the bungalow.... + +_He looks at her, as if he did not understand._ + +DAN (_fiercely_): Nobody's watching!... (_He runs to the window. +She backs into the corner of the room._) + +I'm the one that watches! They've got no call to watch me! I'll go out +and tell them that, an' all! (_Opening the curtains in a frenzy_) +I'm the one that watches! + +_The light crosses the window again. He stares, then claps his hands +over his eyes. + +(Backing to the sofa_) Behind them trees. + +(_Clutching the invalid chair_) Hundreds back of each tree.... +Thousands of eyes. The whole damn world's on my track!... (_Sitting +on the edge of the sofa, and listening_) What's that?... Like a big +wall fallin' over into the sea.... (_Closing his hands over his ears +convulsively_.) + +OLIVIA (_coming down to him_): They mustn't come in.... + +DAN (_turning to her_): Yes, but ... (_Staring_) you're +lookin' at me as if you never see'd me before.... + +OLIVIA: I never have. Nobody has. You've stopped acting at last. You're +real. Frightened. Like a child. (_Putting her arm about his +shoulders_) They mustn't come in.... + +DAN: But everything's slippin' away. From underneath our feet.... Can't +_you_ feel it? Starting slow ... and then hundreds of miles an +hour.... I'm goin' backwards!... And there's a wind in my ears, +terrible blowin' wind.... Everything's going past me, like the +telegraph-poles.... All the things I've ever seen ... faster and faster +... backwards--back to the day I was born. (_Shrieking_) I can see +it coming ... the day I was born!... (_Turning to her, simply_) +I'm goin' to die. + +_A pause. + +A knock at the front door._ + +It's getting cold. + +_Another knock, louder. She presses his head to her._ + +OLIVIA: It's all right. You won't die. I'll tell them I _made_ you +do it. I'll tell lies--I'll tell---- + +_A third and louder knock at the front door. She realises she must +answer, goes into the hall, opens the front door, and comes back, +hiding_ DAN _from view._ + +BELSIZE (_in the hall_): Good evening.... Sorry to pop back like +this---- + +_He comes into the room, followed by_ DORA _and_ MRS. +TERENCE, _both terrified_. + +(_Looking around_) Everything looks all right here. + +MRS. TERENCE: I tell you we _did_ 'ear her! Plain as plain! And +we'd gone near a quarter of a mile---- + +DORA: Plain as plain---- + +MRS. TERENCE: Made my blood run cold. "Danny!" she screamed. "Danny, +where are you?" she said. She wanted 'im back, she did, to save 'er---- + +DORA: Because she was bein' murdered. I knew it! I'd never a' run like +that if I 'adn't 'eard---- + +BELSIZE: We'll soon find out who's right.... Now then----(_As_ +OLIVIA _steps aside behind the sofa_) Hello, Dan! + +DAN (_quietly, rising and standing by the fireplace_): Hello. + +BELSIZE (_standing behind the invalid chair_): Second time to-day, +eh?... + +DAN: That's right. + +BELSIZE: How's the old lady? + +DAN (_after a pause_): Not so bad, thanks, inspector! Gone to bed, +and says she didn't want to be disturbed---- + +BELSIZE: Smell of paraffin ... + +DAN (_with a last desperate attempt at bluster_): You know what +she's like, inspector, a bit nervy these days-- + +_As_ BELSIZE _goes to the bedroom and flashes a light into +it_. + +I'd no sooner got round the corner she screamed for me--"Danny, Danny, +Danny!" she was screamin'--"Danny," she calls me, a pet name for Dan, +that is-- + +_As_ BELSIZE _goes into the sun-room. + +(Rambling on mechanically_) I told her so then. I said, "It's +dangerous, that's what it is, havin' so much paraffin in the house." +That paraffin--she shouldn't ha' so much paraffin in the house-- + +_His voice trails away. Silence._ BELSIZE _comes back, his face +intent, one hand in coat pocket. A pause._ + +BELSIZE (_to_ OLIVIA): What are you doing here? + +OLIVIA: I'm concerned in-- + +DAN (_loudly, decisively, silencing her_): It's all right. +(_Crossing to_ BELSIZE _and swaggering desperately, in front of +the women_) I'm the feller. Anything I'm concerned in, I run all by +myself. If there's going to be any putting me on a public platform to +answer any questions, I'm going to do it by myself ... (_looking +at_ OLIVIA) ... or not at all. I'll manage myself all right-- + +BELSIZE: I get you. Like a bit of limelight, eh? + +DAN (_smiling_): Well ... + +BELSIZE (_as if humouring him_): Let's have a look at your hands, +old boy, will you? + +_With an amused look at_ OLIVIA, DAN _holds out his hands. +Without warning,_ BELSIZE _claps a pair of handcuffs over his +wrists,_ DAN _stares at them a moment, then sits on the sofa and +starts to pull at them furiously over his knee. He beats at them +wildly, moaning and crying like an animal. He subsides gradually, looks +at the others and rises._ + +DAN (_muttering, holding his knee_): Hurt meself.... + +BELSIZE: That's better.... Better come along quietly.... + +_He goes up towards the hall._ DAN _follows him, and takes his +hat from the occasional table. As puts it on he catches sight of his +face in the mirror. + +(To the others, crisply, during this_) I've a couple of men outside. +I'll send 'em in. See that nothing's disturbed.... Coming, old chap? + +DORA: What's 'e doin'? + +MRS. TERENCE: He's lookin' at himself in the glass.... + +_A pause._ + +DAN (_speaking to the mirror_): This is the real thing, my boy. +Actin'.... That's what she said, wasn't it? She was right, you know ... +I've been playin' up to you, haven't I? I showed you a trick or two, +didn't I?... But this is the real thing. (_Swaying_) Got a +cigarette?... (_Seeing_ OLIVIA) You're not goin' to believe what +she said? About helpin' me? + +BELSIZE (_humouring him_): No. (_Putting a cigarette between_ +DAN'S _lips and lighting it_) Plenty of women get a bit hysterical +about a lad in your position. You'll find 'em queuing up all right when +the time comes. Proposals of marriage by the score. + +DAN (_pleased_): Will they? + +BELSIZE: Come along---- + +DAN _turns to follow him._ DORA _is in the way._ + +DAN: Oh, yes ... I forgot about you.... (_smiling with a curious +detached sadness_) Poor little fellow. Poor little chap.... +(_Looking round_) You know, I'd like somethin' now I never wanted +before. A long walk, all by meself. And just when I can't have it. +(_Laughing_) That's contrary, isn't it? + +BELSIZE (_sternly_): Coming? + +DAN (_looking at_ OLIVIA): Just commin' (_He goes to_ OLIVIA, +_takes out his cigarette, puts his manacled arms round her, and +kisses her suddenly and violently on the mouth. He releases her with an +air of bravado, puts back his cigarette, and looks at her_) Well, +I'm goin' to be hanged in the end.... But they'll get their money's +worth at the trial. You wait! + +_He smiles, and raises his hand to his hat-brim with the old familiar +jaunty gesture of farewell. He walks past_ BELSIZE _and out +through the front door._ BELSIZE _follows him. The bang of the +front door._ OLIVIA _falls to the sofa. + +The sound of_ DORA'S _sobbing._ + +CURTAIN + + + + NIGHT MUST FALL was first presented in London by J. P. Mitchelhill at +the Duchess Theatre on May 31st, 1935, with the following cast: + +_The Lord Chief Justice_ ERIC STANLEY + +_Mrs. Bramson_ MAY WHITTY + +_Olivia Grayne_ ANGELA BADDELEY + +_Hubert Laurie_ BASIL RADFORD + +_Nurse Libby_ DOROTHY LANGLEY + +_Mrs. Terence_ KATHLEEN HARRISON + +_Dora Parkoe_ BETTY JARDINE + +_Inspector Belsize_ MATTHEW BOULTON + +_Dan_ EMLYN WILLIAMS + +The play produced by MILES MALLESON. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Night Must Fall, by Williams, Emlyn + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NIGHT MUST FALL *** + +This file should be named nmfal10.txt or nmfal10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, nmfal11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, nmfal10a.txt + +Produced by Georgia Young, Tiffany Vergon, Charles Aldarondo, +Charles Franks, and the Online Distributed Proofreaders Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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