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.