MRS. BRAMSON: Broken three of my Crown Derby, that's all. Thought if she planted them in the rose-bed I wouldn't be well enough ever to see them, I suppose. Well, I _have_ seen. MRS. TERENCE (_crossing and calling to the bedroom_): You're wanted. DORA'S VOICE: What for? MRS. TERENCE: She wants to kiss you good morning, what d'you think.... _She collects the table-cloth, fetches a vase from the mantelpiece, and goes into the kitchen._ DORA _enters gingerly from the bedroom, carrying a cup and saucer on a tray._ DORA: Did you want me, mum? MRS. BRAMSON: Crown Derby to you, my girl. DORA (_uncertain_): Beg pardon, mum? MRS. BRAMSON: I suppose you think that china came from Marks and Spencer? DORA: Oh.... (_Snivelling_) Oh ... oh ... OLIVIA (_coming between_ DORA _and_ MRS. BRAMSON): Come along, Dora, it's not as bad as all that. DORA: Oh, yes, it is.... Oh.... MRS. BRAMSON: You can leave, that's all. You can leave. _Appalled,_ DORA _drops the tray and breaks the saucer._ That settles it. Now you'll _have_ to leave. DORA (_with a cry_): Oh, please I ... (_Kneeling, and collecting broken china_) Oh, ma'am--I'm not meself, you see.... (_Snivelling_) I'm in a terrible trouble.... MRS. BRAMSON: Have you been stealing? DORA (_shocked_): Oh, no! OLIVIA (_after a pause_): Are you going to have a baby? _After a pause, DORA nods._ DORA (_putting the china in her apron_): The idea of me stealing.... I do go to Sunday school, anyways.... MRS. BRAMSON: So that's the game. Wouldn't think butter would melt in her mouth.... You'll have to go, of course; I can't have that sort of thing in this house--and stop squeaking! You'll bring my heart on again. It's all this modern life. I've always said so. All these films and rubbish. OLIVIA: My dear auntie, you can't have a baby by just sitting in the pictures. MRS. BRAMSON: Go away, and don't interfere. OLIVIA _goes to the left window_. DORA _rises. (Triumphantly_) So you're going to have a child. When? DORA (_sniffling_): Last August Bank Holiday.... MRS. BRAMSON: What?... Oh! DORA: I 'aven't got a penny only what I earn--and if I lose my job 'ere-- MRS. BRAMSON: He'll have to marry you. DORA: Oh, I don't think he's keen.... MRS. BRAMSON: I'll _make_ him keen. Who is the gentleman? DORA: A boy I know; Dan his name is--'leas' 'e's not a gentleman. He's a page-boy at the Tallboys. MRS. BRAMSON: The Tallboys? D'you mean that new-fangled place all awnings and loud speakers and things? DORA: That's right. On the by-pass. MRS. BRAMSON: Just the nice ripe sort of place for mischief, it always looked to me. All those lanterns.... What's his character, the good-for-nothing scoundrel? DORA: Oh, he's nice, really. He done the wrong thing by me, but he's all right, if you know what I mean.... MRS. BRAMSON: No, I don't. Where does he come from?