_She takes up the newspaper, sees a headline, and puts it down hastily. She sees the Bible on the table, opens it, and turns over pages. (After a pause, suddenly_) I've got the jitters. I've got the jitters. I've got the jitters.... (_Calling loudly_) Danny! _She waits; there is complete silence. She rises, walks over to the kitchen door, and flings it wide open. (Shouting_) Danny! (_No reply._) He's gone ... They've all gone ... They've left me ... (_Losing control, beating her hands wildly on her Bible_) Oh, Lord, help a poor old woman ... They've left me! (_Tottering to the sun-room_) Danny ... where are you?... Danny ... I'm going to be murdered ... I'm going to be murdered!... Danny ... (_Her voice rising, until she is shrieking hysterically_) Danny! Danny! Danny! _She stops suddenly. Footsteps on the gravel outside the front door. (In a strangled whisper_) There's something outside ... something outside ... Oh, heavens ... (_Staggering across to the sofa_) Danny, where are you? Where are you? There's something outs-- _The front door bangs. She collapses on the sofa, terrified, her enormous Bible clasped to her breast._ Oh, Lord, help me ... help me ... Oh, Lord, help me ... (_Muttering, her eyes closed_) ... Forgive us our trespasses ... _The curtains are suddenly parted. It is_ DAN, _a cigarette between his lips. He stands motionless, his feet planted apart, holding the curtains. There is murder in his face. She is afraid to look, but is forced to at last._ Danny ... Oh ... Oh ... DAN (_smiling, suddenly normal and reassuring_): That's all right ... It's only Danny ... MRS. BRAMSON: Thank God ... (_Going off into laughing hysterics_) Ah ... ah ... ah ... DAN _throws his cigarette away, lays his hat on the occasional table, throws his mackintosh on the left window-seat, and sits beside her, patting her, looking round to see no one has heard her cries._ I'll never forgive you, never. Oh, my heart ... Oh--oh--oh-- _He runs across to the medicine cupboard and brings back a brandy bottle and two glasses._ DAN: Now have a drop of this ... (_As she winces at the taste_) Go on, do you good ... (_As she drinks_) I am sorry, I am really ... You see, they wanted me to see them to the main path, past the rubbish-heap, see, in case they was frightened. ... Now that's better, isn't it? _They are seated side by side on the sofa._ MRS. BRAMSON: I don't know yet ... Give me some more.... _He pours one out for her, and for himself. They drink._ All alone, I was ... (_Her face puckering with self pity_) Just an old woman calling for help ... (_her voice breaking_) ... and no answer.... DAN (_putting the bottle on the floor beside him_): Poor old mum, runnin' about lookin' for Danny---- MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): I wasn't running about as much as all that ... Oh, the relief when I saw your face---- DAN: I bet you wasn't half glad, eh? MRS. BRAMSON: You're the only one that understands me, Danny, that's what you are----