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.