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--