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.