MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, yes....

DAN _stands with one knee on the sofa, and turns over the pages of his Bible.

(Reading breathlessly, her back to the fireplace_)

"... The Victim's Past" ... with another picture of me underneath! (Looking closer, dashed) Oh, taken at Tonbridge the year before the war; really it isn't right.... (To OLIVIA, savouring it) "The Bungalow of Death!... Gruesome finds.... Fiendish murderer still at large.... The enigma of the missing head ... where is it buried?" ... Oh, yes! (She goes on reading silently to herself.)

DAN (suddenly, in a clear voice): "... Blessed is the man ... that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly ... nor standeth in the way of sinners ... nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful...."

MRS. BRAMSON (impatiently): Oh, the print's too small....

DAN (firmly): Shall I read it to you?

MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear, do....

He shuts the Bible with a bang, throws it on the sofa, and takes the paper from her. OLIVIA watches him intently; he smiles at her slowly and brazenly as he shakes out the paper.

DAN (reading laboriously): "... The murderer committed the crime in the forest most—in the forest, most likely strippin' beforehand—-"

_DORA comes in from the kitchen, and stands at the door, arrested by his reading. She is dressed, in Sunday best.

(reading_) "... and cleansin' himself afterwards in the forest lake——"

MRS. BRAMSON: Tch! tch!

DAN (reading): "... He buried the body shallow in the open pit, cunnin'ly chancin' it bein' filled, which it was next day, the eleventh——" (Nodding at OLIVIA) That was the day 'fore I come here....

MRS. BRAMSON: So it was ...

DAN (reading): "The body was nude. Attempts had been made to ... turn to foot of next column...." (Doing so) "Attempts had been made to ... era—eradicate fingerprints with a knife...."

(Far away, the tolling of village bells. Reading)

"... The head was severed by a skilled person, possibly a butcher. The murderer—" (He stops suddenly, raises his head, smiles, takes the cigarette stub, puts it behind his ear, and listens.)

OLIVIA: What's the matter?

MRS. BRAMSON: Can you hear something? Oh, I'm scared....

DAN: I forgot it was Sunday.... They're goin' to church in the villages. All got up in their Sunday best, with prayer-books, and the organ playin', and the windows shinin'. Shinin' on holy things, because holy things isn't afraid of the daylight.

MRS. BRAMSON: But, Danny, what on earth are you—

DAN (quelling her): But all the time the daylight's movin' over the floor, and by the end of the sermon the air in the church is turnin' grey.... And people isn't able to think of holy things so much no more, only of the terrible things that's goin' on outside, that everybody's readin' about in the papers! (Looking at OLIVIA) Because they know that though it's still daylight, and everythin's or'nary and quiet ... to-day will be the same as all the other days, and come to an end, and it'll be night.... (After a pause, coming to earth again with a laugh at the others, throwing the newspaper on the sofa) I forgot it was Sunday!

MRS. BRAMSON (overawed) Good gracious ... what's come over you, Danny?

DAN (with exaggerated animation): Oh, I speechify like anything when I'm roused! I used to go to Sunday school, see, and the thoughts sort of come into my head. Like as if I was readin' off a book! (Slapping his Bible.)

MRS. BRAMSON: Dear, dear.... You should have been a preacher. You should!

DAN laughs loudly and opens the Bible.

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.

DAN: Neither do I, but it sounds wonderful. (Leaning over her, confidentially) I never saw my mam, and I never had a dad, and the first thing I remember is ... Cardiff Docks. And you're the first 'oman I ever told that, so you can compliment yourself. Or the drink. (Laughing) I think it's the drink.

OLIVIA: You do live in your imagination, don't you?

DAN (reassuringly): Yes.... It's the only way to bear with the awful things you have to do.

OLIVIA: What awful things?

DAN: Well ... (Grinning like a child and going back to the sofa) Ah-ha!... I haven't had as much to drink as all that! (Sitting on the sofa) Ah-ha!...

OLIVIA: You haven't a very high opinion of women, have you?

DAN makes a gesture with his hands, pointing the thumbs downwards with a decisive movement.

DAN: Women don't have to be drunk to talk.... You don't talk that much, though; fair play. (Looking her up and down, insolently) You're a dark horse, you are.

A pause. She rises abruptly and stands at the fireplace, her back to him. She takes off her spectacles.

Ye know, this isn't the life for you. What is there to it? Tell me that!

OLIVIA (sombrely): What is there to it ...?

DAN: Yes....

OLIVIA: Getting up at seven, mending my stockings or washing them, having breakfast with a vixenish old woman and spending the rest of the day with her, in a dreary house in the middle of a wood, and going to bed at eleven.... I'm plain, I haven't got any money, I'm shy, and I haven't got any friends.

DAN (teasing): Don't you like the old lady?

OLIVIA: I could kill her.

A pause. She realises what she has said.

DAN (with a laugh): Oh, no, you couldn't!... Not many people have it in them to kill people.... Oh, no!

She looks at him. A pause. He studies the palms of his hands, chuckling to himself.

OLIVIA: And what was there to your life at the Tallboys?

DAN: My life? Well.... The day don't start so good, with a lot of stuck-up boots to clean, and a lot of silly high heels all along the passage waitin' for a polish, and a lot of spoons to clean that's been in the mouths of gapin' fools that looks through me as if I was a dirty window hadn't been cleaned for years.... (Throwing his stub into the fire in a sudden crescendo of fury) Orders, orders, orders; go here, do this, don't do that, you idiot, open the door for me, get a move on—I was never meant to take orders, never!... Down in the tea- place there's an old white beard wigglin'. "Waiter, my tea's stone cold." (Furiously) I'm not a waiter, I'm a millionaire, and everybody's under me!... And just when I think I got a bit o' peace.... (His head in his hands) ... there's somebody ... lockin' the bedroom door ... (raising his head) ... won't let me get out; talk, talk, talk, won't fork out with no more money, at me, at me, at me, won't put no clothes on, calls me everythin', lie on the floor and screams and screams, so nothin' keeps that mouth shut only ... (A pause.) It's rainin' out of the window, and the leaves is off the trees ... oh, Lord ... I wish I could hear a bit o' music ... (smiling, slowly) ... And I do, inside o' myself! And I have a drop of drink ... and everything's fine (Excited) And when it's the night ...

OLIVIA (with a cry): Go on!

A pause. He realises she is there, and turns slowly and looks at her.

DAN (wagging his finger with a sly smile): Aha! I'm too fly for you! You'd like to know, wouldn't you? Aha! Why would you like to know? (Insistently, mischievously) Why d'you lie awake ... all night?

OLIVIA: Don't!... I'm frightened of you!...

DAN (triumphantly, rising and facing her, his back half to the audience): Why?

OLIVIA (desperate): How do you know I lie awake at night? Shall I tell you why? Because you're awake yourself! You can't sleep, can you?... (Triumphantly, in her turn) You can't sleep! There's one thing that keeps you awake ... isn't there? One thing you've pushed into the back of your mind, and you can't do any more about it, and you never will.... And do you know what it is?... It's a little thing. A box. Only a box. But it's ... rather heavy....

DAN _looks at her. A long pause. He jerks away with a laugh and sits at the sofa again._ DAN (_quietly, prosaically_): The way you was going through my letters the other day—that had to make me smile.... _His voice dies away. Without warning, as if seeing something in his mind which makes him lose control, he shrieks loudly, clapping his hands over his eyes: then is silent. He recovers slowly and stares at her.

(After a pause, in a measured voice_) It's the only thing that keeps me awake, mind you! The only thing! (_Earnestly_) But I don't know what to do.... You see, nothing worries me, nothing in the world, only ... I don't like a pair of eyes staring at me ... (_his voice trailing away_) ... with no look in them. I don't know what to do ... I don't know ...

_Without warning he bursts into tears. She sits beside him and seems almost about to put her arms about him. He feels she is there, looks into her eyes, grasps her arm, then pulls himself together abruptly.

(Rising_) But it's the only thing! I live by myself ... (_clapping his chest_) ... inside here—and all the rest of you can go hang! _After_ I've made a use of you, though! Nothing's going to stop me! I feel fine! I—

BELSIZE _crosses outside. A sharp knock at the front door. She half rises. He motions her to sit again.

(With his old swagger_) All right! Anybody's there, I'll deal with 'em—I'll manage myself all right! You watch me!

He goes to the front door and opens it.

BELSIZE (at the door, jovially): Hello, Dan! How's things?

DAN (letting him in and shutting the door): Not so bad....

He brings BELSIZE into the room.

BELSIZE (as OLIVIA goes): Afternoon, Miss Grayne!

OLIVIA (putting on her spectacles): How do you do....

She makes an effort to compose herself and hurries across to the sun-room. BELSIZE'S attitude is one of slightly exaggerated breeziness: DAN'S is one of cheerful naivete almost as limpid as on his first appearance.

BELSIZE: Bearing up, eh?

DAN: Yes, sir, bearin' up, you know....

BELSIZE: We haven't scared you all out of the house yet, I see!

DAN: No chance!

BELSIZE: All these blood-curdlers, eh?

DAN: I should say so!

BELSIZE: No more news for me, I suppose?

DAN: No chance!

BELSIZE: Ah ... too bad! Mind if I sit down?

DAN: (pointing to the sofa): Well, this is the nearest you get to comfort in this house, sir.

BELSIZE: No, thanks, this'll do.... (Sitting on a chair at the table, and indicating the cuttings) I see you keep apace of the news?

DAN: I should say so! They can't hardly wait for the latest on the case in this house, sir.

BELSIZE: Ah, well, it's only natural.... I got a bit of a funny feeling bottom of my spine myself crossing by the rubbish-heap.

DAN: Well, will you have a cigarette, sir?... (His hand to his jacket pocket) Only a Woodbine——

BELSIZE: No, thanks.

DAN (after a pause): Would you like to see Mrs. Bramson, sir?

BELSIZE: Oh, plenty of time. How's she bearing up?

DAN: Well, it's been a bit of a shock for her, them finding the remains of the lady at the bottom of her garden, you know.

BELSIZE: The remains of the lady! I wish you wouldn't talk like that. I've seen 'em.

DAN (looking over his shoulder at the cuttings): Well, you see, I haven't.

BELSIZE: You know, I don't mind telling you, they reckon the fellow that did this job was a bloodstained clever chap.

DAN (smiling): You don't say?

BELSIZE (casually): He was blackmailing her, you know.

DAN: Tch! tch! Was he?

BELSIZE: Whoever he was.

DAN: She had a lot of fellows on a string, though, didn't she?

BELSIZE (guardedly): That's true.

DAN: Though this one seems to have made a bit more stir than any of the others, don't he?

BELSIZE: Yes. (Indicating the cuttings) Regular film star. Made his name.

DAN (abstractedly): If you can make your name withou nobody knowin' what it is, o' course.

BELSIZE (slightly piqued): Yes, of course.... But I don't reckon he's been as bright as all that.

DAN (after a slight pause): Oh, you don't?

BELSIZE: No! They'll nab him in no time.

DAN: Oh ... Mrs. Bramson'll be that relieved. And the whole country besides....

BELSIZE: Look here, Dan, any self-respecting murderer would have taken care to mutilate the body to such a degree that nobody could recognise it—and here we come and identify it first go! (DAN folds his arms and looks thoughtful.) Call that clever?... What d'you think?

DAN catches his eye and crosses to the sofa.

DAN: Well, sir, I'm a slow thinker, I am, but though it might be clever to leave the lady unide—unide——

BELSIZE: Unidentified.

DAN (sitting on the edge of the sofa): Thank you, sir.... (Laboriously) Well, though it be clever to leave the lady unidentified and not be caught ... hasn't it been more clever to leave her identified ... and still not be caught?

BELSIZE: Why didn't you sleep in your bed on the night of the tenth?

A pause. DAN stiffens almost imperceptibly.

DAN: What you say?

BELSIZE: Why didn't you sleep in your bed on the night of the murder?

DAN: I did.

BELSIZE (lighting his pipe): You didn't.

DAN: Yes I did. Oh—except for about half an hour—that's right. I couldn't sleep for toffee and I went up the fire-escape—I remember thinkin' about it next day when the woman was missing, and trying to remember if I could think of anything funny——

BELSIZE: What time was that? (He rises, crosses to the fireplace, and throws his match into it.)

DAN: Oh, about ... oh, you know how you wake up in the night and don't know what time it is....

BELSIZE (staring at him doubtfully): Mmm ...

DAN: I could never sleep when I was at sea, neither, sir.

BELSIZE: Mmm. (Suddenly) Are you feeling hot?

DAN: No.

BELSIZE: Your shirt's wet through.

DAN (after a pause): I've been sawin' some wood.

BELSIZE: Why didn't you tell us you were having an affair with the deceased woman?

DAN: Affair? What's that?

BELSIZE: Come along, old chap, I'll use a straighter word if it'll help you. But you're stalling. She was seen by two of the maids talking to you in the shrubbery. Well?

A pause. DAN bursts into tears, but with a difference. His breakdown a few minutes ago was genuine; this is a good performance, very slightly exaggerated. BELSIZE watches him dispassionately, his brows knit.

DAN: Oh, sir ... it's been on my conscience ... ever since ...

BELSIZE: So you did have an affair with her?

DAN: Oh, no, sir, not that! I avoided her ever after that day she stopped me, sir!... You see, sir, a lady stayin' where I was workin', and for all I knew married, and all the other fellers she'd been after, and the brazen way she went on at me.... You're only human, aren't you, sir, and when they asked me about her, I got frightened to tell about her stopping me.... But now you know about it, sir, it's a weight off my mind, you wouldn't believe!... (Rising, after seeming to pull himself together) As a matter of fact, sir, it was the disgust-like of nearly gettin' mixed up with her that was keepin' me awake at nights.

BELSIZE: I see.... You're a bit of a milk-sop, aren't you?

DAN (apparently puzzled): Am I, sir?

BELSIZE: Yes.... That'll be all for to-day. I'll let you off this once.

DAN: I'm that relieved, sir!

BELSIZE (crossing to the table for his hat): But don't try and keep things from the police another time.

DAN: No chance!

BELSIZE: They always find you out, you know.

DAN: Yes, sir. Would you like a cup o' tea, sir?

BELSIZE: No, thanks. I've got another inquiry in the village.... (Turning back, with an afterthought) Oh, just one thing—might as well just do it, we're supposed to with all the chaps we're questioning, matter of form—if you don't mind. I'll have a quick look through your luggage. Matter of form....

DAN: Oh, yes.

BELSIZE: Where d' you hang out?

DAN (tonelessly): Through the kitchen ... here, sir.... First door facin' ...

BELSIZE: First door facing——

DAN: You can't miss it.

BELSIZE: I'll find it.

DAN: It's open, I think.

BELSIZE _goes into the kitchen. A pause,_ DAN _looks slowly round the room.

(Turning mechanically to the kitchen door_) You can't miss it....

A pause. The noise of something being moved beyond the kitchen. Dan sits on the sofa with a jerk, looking before him. His fingers beat a rapid tattoo on the sides of the sofa. He looks at them, rises convulsively and walks round the room, grasping chairs and furniture as he goes round. He returns to the sofa, sits, and begins the tattoo again. With a sudden wild automatic movement he beats his closed fists in rapid succession against the sides of his head. BELSIZE returns, carrying the hat-box.

BELSIZE (crossing and placing the hat-box on the table): This one's locked. Have you got the key?

DAN rises, and takes a step into the middle of the room. He looks at the hat-box at last.

DAN (in a dead voice): It isn't mine.

BELSIZE: Not yours?

DAN: No.

BELSIZE: Oh?... Whose is it, then?

DAN: I dunno. It isn't mine.

OLIVIA stands at the sun-room door.

OLIVIA: I'm sorry, I thought ... Why, inspector, what are you doing with my box?

BELSIZE: Yours?

OLIVIA: Yes! It's got all my letters in it!

BELSIZE: But it was in ...

OLIVIA: Oh, Dan's room used to be the box-room.

BELSIZE: Oh, I see....

OLIVIA: I'll keep it in my wardrobe; it'll be safer there.... With sudden feverish resolution, she picks up the box and carries it into the kitchen. DAN looks the other way as she passes him.

BELSIZE: I'm very sorry, miss. (Scratching his head) I'm afraid I've offended her....

DAN (smiling): She'll be all right, sir....

BELSIZE: Well, young feller, I'll be off. You might tell the old lady I popped in, and hope she's better.

DAN (smiling and nodding): Thank you, sir.... Good day, sir.

BELSIZE: Good day.

He goes out through the front door into the twilight, closing it behind him.

DAN: Good day sir....

A pause, DAN crumples to the floor in a dead faint.

QUICK CURTAIN



ACT III

SCENE 1

Half an hour later. The light has waned; the fire is lit and throws a red reflection into the room. DAN is lying on the sofa, eyes closed. NURSE LIBBY sits at the end of the sofa holding his pulse. MRS. TERENCE stands behind the sofa with a toby jug of water.

NURSE: There, lovey, you won't be long now.... Ever so much steadier already.... What a bit o' luck me blowin' in to-day!... Tt! tt! Pouring with sweat, the lad is. Whatever's he been up to?

MRS. TERENCE: When I walked in that door and saw 'im lyin' full stretch on that floor everything went topsy-wopsy. (Pressing the jug to DAN'S lips) It did! The room went round and round....

NURSE:(as DAN splutters): Don't choke 'im, there's a love....

MRS. TERENCE: D'you know what I said to meself when I saw 'im lyin' there?

NURSE: What?

MRS. TERENCE: I said, "That murderer's been at 'im," I said, "and it's the next victim." I did!

NURSE: So you would! Just like the pictures.... 'Old your 'ead up, love.

MRS. TERENCE (as NURSE LIBBY supports DAN'S head): Got a nice face, 'asn't he?

NURSE: Oh, yes!... (As DAN'S eyes flicker) Shh, he's coming to.... DAN opens his eyes and looks at her.

Welcome back to the land of the living!

MRS. TERENCE: Thought the murderer'd got you! A pause. DAN stares, then sits up abruptly.

DAN: How long I been like that?

NURSE: We picked you up ten minutes ago, and I'd say it was twenty minutes before that, roughly-like, that you passed away.

MRS. TERENCE: Passed away, don't frighten the boy!... Whatever come over you, dear?

DAN: I dunno. Felt sick, I think. (Recovering himself) Say no more about it, eh? Don't like swinging the lead.... (His head in his hand.)

MRS. TERENCE: Waiting 'and and foot on Madame Crocodile, enough to wear King Kong out....

NURSE: That's better, eh?

DAN: Is it really getting dark?

MRS. TERENCE: It's a scandal the way the days are drawin' in.... 'Ave another sip——

DAN (as she makes to give him more water, to NURSE LIBBY): You haven't such a thing as a nip of brandy?

NURSE (opening her bag): Yes, lovey, I nearly gave you a drop just now—-

DAN takes a flask from her and gulps; he takes a second mouthful. He gives it back, shakes himself, and looks before him.

MRS. TERENCE: Better?

DAN: Yes.... Clears the brain no end.... Makes you understand better.... (His voice growing in vehemence) Makes you see what a damn silly thing it is to get the wind up about anything. Do things! Get a move on! Show 'em what you're made of! Get a move on!... Fainting, indeed.... Proper girl's trick, I'm ashamed of myself.... (Looking round, quietly) The light's going.... The daytime's as if it's never been; it's dead.... (Seeing the others stare, with a laugh) Daft, isn't it?

DORA brings in an oil lamp from the kitchen; she is wearing her outdoor clothes. She crosses to the table, strikes a match with her back to the audience and lights the lamp, then the wall lamp. The twilight is dispelled.

NURSE (shutting her bag, rising): You'll be all right; a bit light-headed after the fall, I expect. (Going to the hall) Well, got an abscess the other side of Turneyfield, and a slow puncture. So long, lovey.

DAN (sitting up): So long!

NURSE: Be good, all!

She bustles out of the front door. A pause. DAN sits looking before him, drumming his fingers on the sofa.

DORA (closing the right window-curtains): What's the matter with him?

MRS. TERENCE: Conked out.

DORA: Conked out? Oh, dear.... D'you think 'e see'd something? I'll tell you what it is!

MRS. TERENCE (closing the left window-curtains): What?

DORA: The monster's lurking again.

Mechanically DAN takes a box of matches and a cigarette from his pocket.

MRS. TERENCE: I'll give you lurk, my girl, look at the egg on my toby! Why don't you learn to wash up, instead of walkin' about talking like three-halfpennyworth of trash?

DORA: I can't wash up properly in that kitchen, with that light. Them little oil lamps isn't any good except to set the place on fire.

She goes into the kitchen. DAN drums his fingers on the sofa. MRS. BRAMSON wheels herself from the bedroom.

MRS. BRAMSON: I dropped off. Why didn't somebody wake me? Have I been missing something?

MRS. TERENCE: That Inspector Belsize called.

MRS. BRAMSON (testily): Then why didn't somebody wake me? Dan, what did he want?

DAN: Just a friendly call.

MRS. BRAMSON: You seem very far away, dear. What's the matter with you?... Dan!

DAN: Bit of an 'eadache, that's all.

MRS. BRAMSON: Doesn't make you deaf, though, dear, does it?

MRS. TERENCE: Now, now, turnin' against the apple of your eye; can't 'ave that goin' on——

A sharp knock at the front door. DAN starts up and goes towards the hall.

MRS. BRAMSON (to MRS. TERENCE): See who it is.

MRS. TERENCE (at the front door, as DAN is about to push past her): Oh ... it's only the paraffin boy.... (To the boy outside, taking a can from him) And you bring stuff on a Saturday night another time.

DAN is standing behind MRS. BRAMSON'S chair.

MRS. BRAMSON: I should think so——MRS. TERENCE comes into the room. DAN strikes a match for his cigarette.

MRS. TERENCE (with a cry): Oh! Can't you see this is paraffin? (She puts the can on the floor just inside the hall.)

MRS. BRAMSON: You went through my side like a knife——

MRS. TERENCE: If people knew what to do with their money, they'd put electric light in their 'omes 'stead of dangerin' people's lives.

She goes into the kitchen. DAN stares before him, the match flickering.

MRS. BRAMSON (blowing out the match): You'll burn your fingers! Set yourself on fire! Absent-minded!... I woke up all of a cold shiver. Had a terrible dream.

DAN (mechanically): What about?

MRS. BRAMSON: Horrors.... I'm freezing. Get me my shawl off my bed, will you, dear?... (As he does not move) My shawl, dear! DAN starts, collects himself and smiles his most ingratiating smile.

DAN: I am sorry, mum. In the Land of Nod, I was! Let me see, what was it your highness was after? A shawl? No sooner said than done.... You watch me! One, two, three!

He runs into the bedroom.

MRS. BRAMSON: Silly boy ... silly boy....

OLIVIA comes in quickly from the kitchen. She is dressed to go out and carries a suitcase. Where are you off to?

OLIVIA: I—I've had a telegram. A friend of mine in London's very ill.

MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with her?

OLIVIA: Pneumonia.

MRS. BRAMSON: Where's the telegram?

OLIVIA: I—I threw it away.

MRS. BRAMSON: Where d'you throw it?

OLIVIA: I—I——

MRS. BRAMSON: You haven't had any telegram.

OLIVIA (impatiently): No, I haven't!

MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with you?

OLIVIA: I can't stay in this house to-night.

MRS. BRAMSON: Why not?

OLIVIA: I'm frightened.

MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, don't be——

OLIVIA: Listen to me. I've never known before what it was to be terrified. But when I saw today beginning to end, and to-night getting nearer and nearer ... I felt my finger-tips getting cold. And I knew it was fright ... stark fright. I'm not a fool, and I'm not hysterical ... but I've been sitting in my room looking at myself in the glass, trying to control myself, telling myself what are real things ... and what aren't. I don't know any longer. The day's over. The forest's all round us. Anything may happen.... You shouldn't stay in this house to-night. That's all.

MRS. BRAMSON (blustering): It's very silly of you, trying to scare an old woman with a weak heart. What have you got to be frightened of?

OLIVIA: There's been a murder, you know.

MRS. BRAMSON: Nobody's going to murder you! Besides, we've got Danny to look after us. He's as strong as an ox, and no silly nerves about him.... What is it you're afraid of?

OLIVIA: I—

MRS. BRAMSON: Sly, aren't you?... Where are you staying to-night?

OLIVIA: In Langbury, with Hubert Laurie and his sister.

MRS. BRAMSON: Not too frightened to make arrangements with him, eh?

OLIVIA: Arrangements?

MRS. BRAMSON: Well, some people would call it something else.

OLIVIA (losing her temper): Oh, won't you see ...

MRS. BRAMSON: I'm very annoyed with you. How are you going to get there?

OLIVIA: Walking.

MRS. BRAMSON: Through the forest? Not too frightened for that, I see.

OLIVIA: I'd rather spend to-night in the forest than in this house.

MRS. BRAMSON: That sounds convincing, I must say. Well, you can go, but when you come back, I'm not so sure I shall answer the door. Think that over in the morning.

OLIVIA: The morning?...

DAN'S VOICE (in the bedroom, singing): "... their home addresses ... and their caresses ... linger in my memory of those beautiful dames ..."

OLIVIA listens, holding her breath; she tries to say something to MRS. BRAMSON, and fails. She makes an effort, and runs out of the front door. It bangs behind her. DAN comes back from the bedroom, carrying a shawl.

DAN (over-casual): What was that at the door?

MRS. BRAMSON: My niece. Gone for the night, if you please.

DAN: Gone ... for the night? (He stares before him.)

MRS. BRAMSON: Would you believe it? Says she's frightened....

A pause.

Come along with the shawl, dear. I'm freezing....

DAN (with a laugh, putting the shawl round her): Don't know what's up with me—

He goes to the table and looks at a newspaper. MRS. TERENCE comes in from the kitchen, her coat on.

MRS. TERENCE: Well, I must go on me way rejoicin'.

MRS. BRAMSON: Everybody seems to be going. What is all this?

MRS. TERENCE: What d'you want for lunch tomorrow?

MRS. BRAMSON: Lunch to-morrow?... Let me see....

DAN: Lunch? To-morrow?... (After a pause) What about a nice little steak?

MRS. BRAMSON: A steak, let me see.... Yes, with baked potatoes—

DAN: And a nice roly-poly puddin', the kind you like?

MRS. BRAMSON: I think so.

MRS. TERENCE: Something light. O.K. Good night.

She goes back into the kitchen. DAN scans the newspaper casually.

MRS. BRAMSON (inquisitive): What are you reading, dear?

DAN (breezily): Only the murder again. About the clues that wasn't any good.

MRS. BRAMSON (suddenly): Danny, d'you think Olivia's a thief?

DAN: Shouldn't be surprised.

MRS. BRAMSON: What!

DAN: Her eyes wasn't very wide apart.

MRS. BRAMSON (working herself up): Goodness me ... my jewel-box ... what a fool I was to let her go—my earrings ... the double-faced—

She wheels herself furiously into her bedroom. DORA, her hat and coat on, comes in from the kitchen in time to see her go.

DORA: What's up with her?

DAN (still at his paper): Thinks she's been robbed.

DORA: Oh, is that all.... That's the fourth time this month she's thought that. One of these days something will 'appen to her, and will I be pleased? Oh, baby!... Where's Mrs. Terence?

DAN: Gone, I think.

DORA (frightened): Oh, law, no! (Calling) Mrs. Terence!

MRS. TERENCE (calling, in the kitchen): Ye-es!

DORA: You 'aven't gone without me, 'ave you?

MRS. TERENCE (appearing at the kitchen door, spearing a hatpin into her hat): Yes, I'm 'alf-way there. What d'you think?

DORA: You did give me a turn! (Going to the table and taking the box) I think I'll 'ave a choc. (Walking towards the hall) I couldn't 'ave walked a step in those trees all by myself. Coming?

DAN (suddenly): I'd have come with you with pleasure, only I'm going the other direction. Payley Hill way.

MRS. TERENCE (surprised): You going out?

DORA: Oh?

DAN (in the hall, putting on hat and mackintosh): Yes. I still feel a bit funny.

MRS. TERENCE: But you can't leave 'er 'ere by herself!

DORA: She'll scream the place down!

DAN (over-explanatory): I asked her, this very minute, and she don't seem to mind. You know what she is. Said it'd do me good, and won't hear of me stayin'. It's no good arguin' with her.

DORA puts the chocolates down on the occasional table. She and MRS. TERENCE follow DAN into the hall.

DORA: No good arguin' with her—don't I know it!

MRS. TERENCE: You 'ave a nice long walk while you get the chance; you wait on 'er too much.... (Closing the plush curtains so that they are all out of sight) Ooh, ain't it dark.... Got the torch, Dora?

DORA: O.K., honey.

MRS. TERENCE: Laws, I'd be frightened goin' off by meself.... Well, we'd best 'urry, Dora.... Good night, Dan. Pity you aren't comin' our way—-DAN'S VOICE: See you in the morning! Good night!

DORA'S VOICE: O.K.!... Toodle-oo!

The door bangs. A pause.

DAN'S VOICE (outside the left window): Good night!

MRS. TERENCE'S VOICE (outside the right window): Good night!

DORA (same): Good night!

Silence.

MRS. TERENCE (farther away): Good night!

DORA (same): Good night!

MRS. BRAMSON comes trundling back from the bedroom in her chair.

MRS. BRAMSON: Good night here, good night there; anybody'd think it was the night before Judgment Day. What's the matter with ... (Seeing the room is empty) Talking to myself. Wish people wouldn't walk out of rooms and leave me high and dry. Don't like it. (She wheels herself round to the table. A pause. She looks round impatiently.) Where's my chocolates?...

She looks round again, gets up out of her chair for the first time in the play, walks quite normally across the room to the mantelpiece, sees her chocolates are not there, walks up to the occasional table, and takes up the box.

That girl's been at them again....

She walks back to her chair, carrying the chocolates, and sits in it again. She begins to munch. She suddenly stops, as if she has heard something.

What's that?...

She listens again. A cry is heard far away.

Oh, God ... Danny!

The cry is repeated.

Danny!

The cry is heard a third time.

It's an owl ... Oh, Lord!

_She falls back in relief, and eats another chocolate. The clock strikes the half-hour. Silence. The silence gets on her nerves.

(After a pause, calling softly_) Danny!... (_As there is no answer_) What's the boy doing in that kitchen?

_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——

DAN (patting her): That's right——

MRS. BRAMSON: I don't have to tell you everything I've been through. I don't have to tell you about my husband, how unkind and ungodly he was—I wouldn't have minded so much him being ungodly, but oh, he was unkind ... (Sipping) And I don't have to tell you how unkind he was. You know. You just know ... whatever else I've not been, I was always a great one on psychology.

DAN: You was. (He takes her glass and fills it again and his own.)

MRS. BRAMSON: I'm glad those other people have gone. Awful screeching common women. Answer back, answer back, answer back.... Isn't it time for my medicine?

He hands her glass back. They both drink. DAN sits smiling and nodding at her.

That day you said to me about me reminding you of your mother.... (DAN slowly begins to roll up his sleeves a little way.) These poets and rubbishy people can think all they like about their verses and sonnets and such—that girl Olivia writes sonnets—would you believe it—

DAN: Fancy.

MRS. BRAMSON: They can think all they like, that was a beautiful thought. (Her arm on his shoulder) And when you think you're just an ignorant boy, it's ... it's startling.

DAN (with a loud laugh): That's right.

MRS. BRAMSON: I'll never forget that. Not as long as I live ... (Trying to stem her tears) I want a chocolate now.

DAN: Right you are!... (Placing her glass and his own on the floor, and walking briskly to the table) A nice one with a soft centre, the kind you like.... Why, here's one straight away.... (He walks slowly to the back of the sofa. In a level voice) Now shut your eyes ... open your mouth ...

MRS. BRAMSON (purring): Oh, Danny.... You're the only one ...

She shuts her eyes. He stands behind her, and puts the chocolate into her mouth. His fingers close slowly and involuntarily over her neck: she feels his touch, and draws both his hands down, giggling, so that his face almost touches hers.

(Maudlin) What strong hands they are.... You're a pet, my little chubby-face, my baby-face, my Danny.... Am I in a draught?

A pause. DAN draws his hands slowly away, walks to the back, and shuts the plush curtains.

I've got to take care of myself, haven't I?

DAN (turning slowly and looking at her): You have.

He picks up the paraffin can briskly and goes towards the kitchen.

MRS. BRAMSON: What are you—

DAN: Only takin' the paraffin tin in the kitchen.

He goes into the kitchen.

MRS. BRAMSON (half to herself): That girl should have carried it in. Anything to annoy me. Tomorrow—(Turning and seeing that he is gone) Danny! (Shrieking suddenly) Danny!

DAN runs back from the kitchen.

DAN: What's the matter?

He looks hastily towards the hall to see no one has heard.

MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, dear, I thought—

DAN (sitting on the back of the sofa): I was only putting the paraffin away. Now—(He leans over the sofa, and raises his arm slowly.)

MRS. BRAMSON (putting her hand on his arm): I think I'll go to bed now.

DAN (after a pause, dropping his arm): O.K.

MRS. BRAMSON: And I'll have my supper-tray in my room. (Petulantly) Get me back into my chair, dear, will you?

DAN (jerkily): O.K....

He crosses to the invalid-chair.

MRS. BRAMSON: Has she put the glass by the bed for my teeth?

DAN (bringing over the chair): I put it there myself.

He helps her into the chair and pulls it over towards the bedroom.

MRS. BRAMSON (suddenly, in the middle of the room): I want to be read to now.

DAN (after a pause of indecision): O.K. (Clapping his hands effusively) What'll you have? The old East Lynne?

MRS. BRAMSON: No, I don't feel like anything sentimental to-night....

DAN (looking towards the desk): What'll you have, then?

MRS. BRAMSON: I think I'd like the Bible.

A pause. He looks at her.

DAN: O.K.

MRS. BRAMSON (as he goes smartly to the sofa, fetches the Bible, pulls up a chair to the right of her, sits, and looks for the place): That piece you were reading.... It's Sunday.... Isn't that nice ... all the aches and pains quiet for once ... pretty peaceful....

DAN (reading): "Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful...."

MRS. BRAMSON (drowsily): You read so nicely, Danny.

DAN: Very kind of you, my lady. (Reading a little breathlessly) "But his delight is in the Law of the Lord; and in His law doth he meditate day and night—"

MRS. BRAMSON: Sh!

DAN: What?

MRS. BRAMSON: What's that?

DAN: Can you hear something?

MRS. BRAMSON: Yes! A sort of—thumping noise....

She looks at him suddenly, leans forward, and puts her right hand inside his jacket.

Why, Danny, it's you! It's your heart ... beating!

He laughs.

Well! Are you all right, dear?

DAN: Fine. I been running along the path, see.... (Garrulously) I been out of training, I suppose; when I was at sea I never missed a day running round the decks, o' course....

MRS. BRAMSON (sleepily): Of course.

DAN (speaking quickly, as if eager to conjure up a vision): I remember those mornings—on some sea—very misty pale it is, with the sun like breathing silver where he's comin' up across the water, but not blowing on the sea at all ... and the sea-gulls standing on the deck-rail looking at themselves in the water on the deck, and only me about and nothing else ...

MRS. BRAMSON (nodding sleepily): Yes ...

DAN: And the sun. Just me and the sun.

MRS. BRAMSON (nodding): There's no sun now, dear; it's night!

A pause. He drums his fingers on the Bible.

DAN: Yes ... it's night now. (Reading, feverishly) "The ungodly are not so, but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away——"

MRS. BRAMSON: I think I'll go to bye-byes.... We'll have the rest to-morrow, shall we? (Testily) Help me, dear, help me, you know what I am——

DAN (drumming his fingers: suddenly, urgently): Wait a minute ... I—I've only got two more verses——

MRS. BRAMSON: Hurry it up, dear. I don't want to wake up in the morning with a nasty cold.

DAN (reading slowly): "... Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.... For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous ... But the way of the ungodly ... shall perish ..."

A pause. He shuts the Bible loudly, and lays it on the table. MRS. BRAMSON can hardly keep awake.

That's the end.

MRS. BRAMSON: Is it?... Ah, well, it's been a long day——

DAN: Are you quite comfortable?

MRS. BRAMSON: A bit achy. Glad to get to bed. Hope that woman's put my bottle in all right. Bet she hasn't——

DAN: Sure you're comfortable? Wouldn't you like a cushion back of your head?

MRS. BRAMSON: No, dear, just wheel me——

DAN (rising): I think you'll be more comfortable with a cushion. (Rising, humming) "I'm a pretty little feller, everybody knows ... dunno what to call me ..."

He goes deliberately across, humming, and picks up a large black cushion from the sofa. His hands close on the cushion, and he stands silent a moment. He moves slowly back to the other side of her; he stands looking at her, his back three-quarters to the audience and his face hidden: he is holding the cushion in both hands.

MRS. BRAMSON shakes herself out of sleep and looks at him.

MRS. BRAMSON: What a funny look on your face, dear. Smiling like that.... (Foolishly) You look so kind ...

He begins to raise the cushion slowly.

So kind ... (Absently) What are you going to do with that cushion?...

The lights dim gradually into complete darkness, and the music grows into a thunderous crescendo.



SCENE II

_The music plays a few bars, then dies down proportionately as the lights come up again.

Half an hour later. The scene is the same, with the same lighting; the room is empty and the wheel-chair has been removed._

DAN _comes in from the sun-room, smoking the stub of a cigarette. He crosses smartly, takes the bottle and glasses from the floor by the sofa and places them on the table, pours himself a quick drink, places the bottle on the floor next the desk, throws away his stub, takes another cigarette from his pocket, puts it in his mouth, takes out a box of matches, and lights a match. The clock chimes. He looks at it, seems to make a decision, blows out the match, throws the matchbox on the table, takes_ MRS. BRAMSON'S _tape and keys from his trouser pocket, crosses quickly to the safe by the fireplace, opens it, takes out the cash-box, sits on the sofa, unlocks the cash-box, stuffs the keys back into his trousers, opens the cash-box, takes out the notes, looks at them, delighted, stuffs them into his pocket, hurries into the sun-room, returns a second later with the empty invalid chair, plants it in the middle of the room, picks up the cushion from the floor above the table, looks at it a moment, arrested, throws it callously on the invalid chair, hurries into the kitchen, returns immediately with the paraffin, sprinkles it freely over the invalid chair, places the can under the table, lifts the paraffin lamp from the table, and is just about to smash it over the invalid chair when there is the sound of a chair falling over in the sun-room. His face inscrutable, he looks towards it. He carries the lamp stealthily to the desk, puts it down, looks round, picks a chair from near the table, and stands at the sun-room door with the chair held high above his head.

The stagger of footsteps;_ OLIVIA _stands in the doorway to the sun-room. She has been running through the forest; her clothes are wild, her hair has fallen about her shoulders, and she is no longer wearing her spectacles. She looks nearly beautiful. Her manner is quiet, almost dazed. He lowers the chair slowly and sits on the other side of the table. A pause._

OLIVIA: I've never seen a dead body before.... I climbed through the window and nearly fell over it. Like a sack of potatoes, or something. I thought it was, at first.... And that's murder.

As he looks up at her.

But it's so ordinary.... I came back ...

As he lights his cigarette.

... expecting ... ha (laughing hysterically) ... I don't know ... and here I find you, smoking a cigarette ... you might have been tidying the room for the night. It's so ... ordinary.... (After a pause, with a cry) Why don't you say something!

DAN: I thought you were goin' to stay the night at that feller's.

OLIVIA: I was.

DAN: What d'you come back for?

OLIVIA (the words pouring out): To find you out. You've kept me guessing for a fortnight. Guessing hard. I very nearly knew, all the time. But not quite. And now I do know.

DAN: Why was you so keen on finding me out?

OLIVIA (vehemently, coming to the table): In the same way any sane, decent-minded human being would want—would want to have you arrested for the monster you are!

DAN (quietly): What d'you come back for?

OLIVIA: I ... I've told you....

He smiles at her slowly and shakes his head. She sits at the table and closes her eyes.

I got as far as the edge of the wood. I could see the lights in the village.... I came back.

She buries her head in her arms. DAN rises, looks at her a moment regretfully, puts away his cigarette, and stands with both hands over the invalid chair.

DAN (casually): She didn't keep any money anywhere else, did she?

OLIVIA: I've read a lot about evil——

DAN realises his hands are wet with paraffin and wipes them on his trousers.

DAN: Clumsy....

OLIVIA: I never expected to come across it in real life.

DAN (lightly): You didn't ought to read so much. I never got through a book yet.... But I'll read you all right.... (Crossing to her, leaning over the table, and smiling at her intently) You haven't had a drop to drink, and yet you feel as if you had. You never knew there was such a secret part inside of you. All that book-learnin' and moral-me-eye here and social-me-eye there—you took that off on the edge of the wood same as if it was an overcoat ... and you left it there!

OLIVIA: I hate you. I ... hate you!

DAN (urgently): And same as anybody out for the first time without their overcoats, you feel as light as air! Same as I feel, sometimes—only I never had no overcoat—(Excited) Why—this is my big chance! You're the one I can tell about meself! Oh, I'm sick o' hearin' how clever everybody else is—I want to tell 'em how clever I am for a change!... Money I'm goin' to have, and people doin' what they're told, and me tellin' them to do it! There was a 'oman at the Tallboys, wasn't there? She wouldn't be told, would she? She thought she was up 'gainst a soft fellow in a uniform, didn't she? She never knew it was me she was dealin' with—(striking his chest in a paroxysm of elation)—me! And this old girl treatin' me like a son 'cause I made her think she was a chronic invalid—ha! She's been more use to me to-night (tapping the notes in his jacket pocket, smartly) than she has to any other body all her life. Stupid, that's what people are ... stupid. If those two hadna' been stupid they might be breathin' now; you're not stupid; that's why I'm talkin' to you. (With exaggerated self-possession) You said just now murder's ordinary.... Well, it isn't ordinary at all, see? And I'm not an ordinary chap. There's one big difference 'tween me and other fellows that try this game. I'll never be found out. 'Cause I don't care a——(Snapping his fingers grandly) The world's goin' to hear from me. That's me. (Chuckling) You wait.... (After a pause) But you can't wait, can you?

OLIVIA: What do you mean?

DAN: Well, when I say I'll never be found out, what I mean is, no living soul will be able to tell any other living soul about me. (Beginning to roll up a sleeve, nonchalantly) Can you think of anybody ... who can go to-morrow ... and tell the police the fire at Forest Corner ... wasn't an accident at all?

OLIVIA: I—I can.

DAN: Oh, no, you can't.

OLIVIA: Why can't I?

DAN: Well, I'm up against a very serious problem, I am. But the answer to it is as simple as pie, to a feller like me, simple as pie ... (Rolling up the other sleeve a little way) She isn't going to be the only one ... found to-morrow ... in the fire at Forest Corner.... (After a pause) Aren't you frightened? You ought to be! (Smiling) Don't you think I'll do it?

OLIVIA: I know you will. I just can't realise it.

DAN: You know, when I told you all that about meself just now, I'd made up my mind then about you. (Moving slowly after her, round the table, as she steps back towards the window.) That's what I am, see? I make up me mind to do a thing, and I do it.... You remember that first day when I come in here? I said to meself then, There's a girl that's got her wits about her; she knows a thing or two; different from the others. I was right, wasn't I? You——(Stopping abruptly, and looking round the room) What's that light in here?

OLIVIA: What light?

DAN: There's somebody in this room's holdin' a flashlight.

OLIVIA: It can't be in this room.... It must be a light in the wood.

DAN: It can't be.

A flashlight crosses the window-curtains. OLIVIA turns and stares at it.

OLIVIA: Somebody's watching the bungalow....

He looks at her, as if he did not understand.

DAN (fiercely): Nobody's watching!... (He runs to the window. She backs into the corner of the room.)

I'm the one that watches! They've got no call to watch me! I'll go out and tell them that, an' all! (Opening the curtains in a frenzy) I'm the one that watches!

_The light crosses the window again. He stares, then claps his hands over his eyes.

(Backing to the sofa_) Behind them trees.

(Clutching the invalid chair) Hundreds back of each tree.... Thousands of eyes. The whole damn world's on my track!... (Sitting on the edge of the sofa, and listening) What's that?... Like a big wall fallin' over into the sea.... (Closing his hands over his ears convulsively.)

OLIVIA (coming down to him): They mustn't come in....

DAN (turning to her): Yes, but ... (Staring) you're lookin' at me as if you never see'd me before....

OLIVIA: I never have. Nobody has. You've stopped acting at last. You're real. Frightened. Like a child. (Putting her arm about his shoulders) They mustn't come in....

DAN: But everything's slippin' away. From underneath our feet.... Can't you feel it? Starting slow ... and then hundreds of miles an hour.... I'm goin' backwards!... And there's a wind in my ears, terrible blowin' wind.... Everything's going past me, like the telegraph-poles.... All the things I've ever seen ... faster and faster ... backwards—back to the day I was born. (Shrieking) I can see it coming ... the day I was born!... (Turning to her, simply) I'm goin' to die.

_A pause.

A knock at the front door._

It's getting cold.

Another knock, louder. She presses his head to her.

OLIVIA: It's all right. You won't die. I'll tell them I made you do it. I'll tell lies—I'll tell——

A third and louder knock at the front door. She realises she must answer, goes into the hall, opens the front door, and comes back, hiding DAN from view.

BELSIZE (in the hall): Good evening.... Sorry to pop back like this——

He comes into the room, followed by DORA and MRS. TERENCE, both terrified.

(Looking around) Everything looks all right here.

MRS. TERENCE: I tell you we did 'ear her! Plain as plain! And we'd gone near a quarter of a mile——

DORA: Plain as plain——

MRS. TERENCE: Made my blood run cold. "Danny!" she screamed. "Danny, where are you?" she said. She wanted 'im back, she did, to save 'er——

DORA: Because she was bein' murdered. I knew it! I'd never a' run like that if I 'adn't 'eard——

BELSIZE: We'll soon find out who's right.... Now then——(As OLIVIA steps aside behind the sofa) Hello, Dan!

DAN (quietly, rising and standing by the fireplace): Hello.

BELSIZE (standing behind the invalid chair): Second time to-day, eh?...

DAN: That's right.

BELSIZE: How's the old lady?

DAN (after a pause): Not so bad, thanks, inspector! Gone to bed, and says she didn't want to be disturbed——

BELSIZE: Smell of paraffin ...

DAN (with a last desperate attempt at bluster): You know what she's like, inspector, a bit nervy these days—

As BELSIZE goes to the bedroom and flashes a light into it.

I'd no sooner got round the corner she screamed for me—"Danny, Danny, Danny!" she was screamin'—"Danny," she calls me, a pet name for Dan, that is—

_As_ BELSIZE _goes into the sun-room.

(Rambling on mechanically_) I told her so then. I said, "It's dangerous, that's what it is, havin' so much paraffin in the house." That paraffin—she shouldn't ha' so much paraffin in the house—

His voice trails away. Silence. BELSIZE comes back, his face intent, one hand in coat pocket. A pause.

BELSIZE (to OLIVIA): What are you doing here?

OLIVIA: I'm concerned in—

DAN (loudly, decisively, silencing her): It's all right. (Crossing to BELSIZE and swaggering desperately, in front of the women) I'm the feller. Anything I'm concerned in, I run all by myself. If there's going to be any putting me on a public platform to answer any questions, I'm going to do it by myself ... (looking at OLIVIA) ... or not at all. I'll manage myself all right—

BELSIZE: I get you. Like a bit of limelight, eh?

DAN (smiling): Well ...

BELSIZE (as if humouring him): Let's have a look at your hands, old boy, will you?

With an amused look at OLIVIA, DAN holds out his hands. Without warning, BELSIZE claps a pair of handcuffs over his wrists, DAN stares at them a moment, then sits on the sofa and starts to pull at them furiously over his knee. He beats at them wildly, moaning and crying like an animal. He subsides gradually, looks at the others and rises.

DAN (muttering, holding his knee): Hurt meself....

BELSIZE: That's better.... Better come along quietly....

_He goes up towards the hall._ DAN _follows him, and takes his hat from the occasional table. As puts it on he catches sight of his face in the mirror.

(To the others, crisply, during this_) I've a couple of men outside. I'll send 'em in. See that nothing's disturbed.... Coming, old chap?

DORA: What's 'e doin'?

MRS. TERENCE: He's lookin' at himself in the glass....

A pause.

DAN (speaking to the mirror): This is the real thing, my boy. Actin'.... That's what she said, wasn't it? She was right, you know ... I've been playin' up to you, haven't I? I showed you a trick or two, didn't I?... But this is the real thing. (Swaying) Got a cigarette?... (Seeing OLIVIA) You're not goin' to believe what she said? About helpin' me?

BELSIZE (humouring him): No. (Putting a cigarette between DAN'S lips and lighting it) Plenty of women get a bit hysterical about a lad in your position. You'll find 'em queuing up all right when the time comes. Proposals of marriage by the score.

DAN (pleased): Will they?

BELSIZE: Come along——

DAN turns to follow him. DORA is in the way.

DAN: Oh, yes ... I forgot about you.... (smiling with a curious detached sadness) Poor little fellow. Poor little chap.... (Looking round) You know, I'd like somethin' now I never wanted before. A long walk, all by meself. And just when I can't have it. (Laughing) That's contrary, isn't it?

BELSIZE (sternly): Coming?

DAN (looking at OLIVIA): Just commin' (He goes to OLIVIA, takes out his cigarette, puts his manacled arms round her, and kisses her suddenly and violently on the mouth. He releases her with an air of bravado, puts back his cigarette, and looks at her) Well, I'm goin' to be hanged in the end.... But they'll get their money's worth at the trial. You wait!

_He smiles, and raises his hand to his hat-brim with the old familiar jaunty gesture of farewell. He walks past_ BELSIZE _and out through the front door._ BELSIZE _follows him. The bang of the front door._ OLIVIA _falls to the sofa.

The sound of_ DORA'S _sobbing._

CURTAIN



NIGHT MUST FALL was first presented in London by J. P. Mitchelhill at the Duchess Theatre on May 31st, 1935, with the following cast:

The Lord Chief Justice ERIC STANLEY

Mrs. Bramson MAY WHITTY

Olivia Grayne ANGELA BADDELEY

Hubert Laurie BASIL RADFORD

Nurse Libby DOROTHY LANGLEY

Mrs. Terence KATHLEEN HARRISON

Dora Parkoe BETTY JARDINE

Inspector Belsize MATTHEW BOULTON

Dan EMLYN WILLIAMS

The play produced by MILES MALLESON.

THE END