CELIA. (_Exchanges looks with_ AUNT IDA, _who has worked down_ L. _after_ FARADAY _has gone up_ C. AUNT IDA _nods her head. Indifferently_) Any news in the Times? OMNES. _The Times? The Times? Why, no, I don't imagine so. Have you seen the Times? Now where has Martin put that Times?_ (_Etc., etc_. NOTE: _This should come to a crescendo and then die down_.) EVELYN. (_In a loud, hoarse whisper to_ TARVER) Oh, say something. TARVER. (_Very nervously_) No, I don't think there was anything, was there, Admiral? GRICE. (_Mournfully, staring straight ahead of him_) Nothing very lively. OMNES. (_In a strained whisper_) Admiral! FARADAY. (_To relieve situation. Gayly_) Now where has the Times got to? (TARVER _rises and looks in fireplace, muttering to himself_.) PHYLLIS _and_ MADGE. Where is the Times? Have you seen the Times? I wonder what could have happened to it? (_Etc_.) (GRICE _rises and turns_ R. _and starts up stage. The Times falls out from his back. There is general consternation_.) CELIA. (_Seeing Times on floor_) Why, there it is, isn't it? FARADAY. (_In mock, great surprise_) God bless my soul! So it is. (TARVER _sinks down on fender_.) GRICE. (_Coming down stage and picking up paper_) Now, how did that get there? CELIA. May I see it, if everyone has quite finished? (_Holds out hand for paper_. GRICE _reluctantly gives paper to her. She opens it and reads. All watch her, strained and anxiously. Cheerfully_) Births, marriages, deaths. I always look first at that column, you know. (_After a pause. Laughing a little_) How very amusing! OMNES. Amusing? Celia!! Great Scott! God bless my soul! CELIA. (_Reading_) "On October the 11th----" EVELYN. (_Almost with a sob_) _Eleventh!_ CELIA. "Elsie Hardiman to Alfred Bryce." (_All give tremendous sigh of relief. Looking up_) Why didn't somebody tell me Elsie Hardiman was engaged? FARADAY. (_Comes to chair_ R. _of_ L. _table and lays muff down on book rack_) I wouldn't go into that, Celia. I wouldn't pursue _that_ line of inquiry any further if I were _you_, my dear. (_Tries to take paper_.) CELIA. (_Retaining her hold on paper_) I just want to see if anybody is dead, Father. (_Puts out a hand surreptitiously and pulls_ AUNT IDA _near her. They all watch her with tragic anxiety. She sees notice, reads it, and utters a long, low cry of grief, then lets paper drop on table and with another long moan, rises and buries her face in_ AUNT IDA'S _shoulder_.) (TARVER _curls up in chair extreme_ R., _pulling his moustache_.) PHYLLIS. (_Making sympathetic motion forward_) Celia--darling. AUNT IDA. (_Waving her handkerchief up and down_) Sh--sh--sh--sh! (_They stand in grief-stricken attitudes, contemplating her_.) FARADAY. (_Brokenly_) Celia--my child---- AUNT IDA. (_Waving her handkerchief up and down_) Sh--sh--sh--sh! EVELYN. _Poor Celia!_ AUNT IDA. Sh--sh--sh--sh! (_Pause_.) I think--she will--say something soon.