MRS. TERENCE: That's a living lie. (_Going round to her_) Here are your roses. MRS. BRAMSON: You've cut them too young. I knew you would. MRS. TERENCE (_taking up her tray and starting for the kitchen_): Then you come out and pick the ones you want, and you'll only 'ave yourself to blame. MRS. BRAMSON: That's a nice way to talk to an invalid. MRS. TERENCE: If you're an invalid, I'm the Prince of Wales. _She goes back into the kitchen_. OLIVIA: Would you like me to read some more? BRAMSON: No. I'm upset for the day now. I'd better see she does pick the right roses. (_Wheeling herself, muttering_) That woman's a menace. Good mind to bring an action against her. She ought to be put away.... (_Shouting_) Wait for me, wait for me! _Her voice dies away in the kitchen. The kitchen door closes_. HUBERT _and_ OLIVIA _are alone_. OLIVIA: That's the fifth action she's threatened to bring this week. (_She crosses to the right window._) HUBERT: She's a good one to talk about putting away. Crikey! She'll be found murdered one of these days.... (_Suddenly reading from his paper_) "In India a population of three and a half hundred million is loyal to Britain; now----" OLIVIA: Oh, Hubert! (_Good humouredly_) I thought I'd cured you of that. HUBERT: Sorry. OLIVIA: You've only had two weeks of her. I've had six. _A pause. She sighs restlessly._ HUBERT: Fed up? OLIVIA: It's such a very inadequate expression, don't you think?... (_After a pause_) How bright the sun is to-day.... _She is pensive, far-away, smiling._ HUBERT: A penny for 'em. OLIVIA: I was just thinking ... I often wonder on a very fine morning what it'll be like ... for night to come. And I never can. And yet it's got to.... (_Looking at his perplexed face_) It is silly, isn't it? _DORA comes in from the kitchen with a duster and crosses towards the bedroom. She is a pretty, stupid, and rather sluttish country girl of twenty, wearing a maid's uniform. She looks depressed_. Who are those men, Dora? DORA: What men, miss? OLIVIA: Over there, behind the clearing. DORA: Oh.... (_Peering past her_) Oh. 'Adn't seen them. What are they doing poking about in that bush? OLIVIA (_absently_): I don't know. I saw them yesterday too, farther down the woods. DORA (_lamely_): I expect they're looking for something. _She goes into the bedroom._ HUBERT: She looks a bit off-colour, doesn't she? OLIVIA: The atmosphere must be getting her down too. HUBERT: I'm wondering if I'm going to be able to stand it myself. Coming over here every day for another week. OLIVIA (_smiling_): There's nothing to prevent you staying at _home_ every day for another week ... is there? HUBERT (_still apparently reading his paper_): Oh, yes, there is. What d'you think I invite myself to lunch every day for? You don't think it's the old geyser, do you? OLIVIA (_smiling_): No. _She comes down to the table._