Night Must Fall | Page 9

about--a murder?
HUBERT: Oh, we don't_know_, of course, but there might have been, mightn't there?
DAN (_suddenly effusive_): Yes, there might have been, yes!
HUBERT: Ever seen her?
DAN: Oh, yes. I used to take cigarettes an' drinks for her.
MRS. BRAMSON (_impatiently_): What's she _like_?
DAN: What's she like?... (To MRS. BRAMSON)--She's ... on the tall side. Thin ankles, with one o' them bracelets on one of 'em. (Looking at OLIVIA) Fair hair--
_A sudden thought seems to arrest him. He goes on looking at_ OLIVIA.
MRS. BRAMSON: Well? Go on!
DAN (_after a pause, in a level voice_): Thin eyebrows, with white marks, where they was pulled out ... to be in the fashion, you know.... Her mouth ... a bit thin as well, with red stuff painted round it, to make it look more; you can rub it off ... I suppose. Her neck ... rather thick. Laughs a bit loud; and then it stops. (_After a pause_) She's ... very lively. (_With a quick smile that dispels the atmosphere he has unaccountably created_) You can't say I don't keep my eyes skinned, can you?
HUBERT: I should say you do! A living portrait, if ever there was one, what? Now--
MRS. BRAMSON (_pointedly_): Weren't you going for a walk?
HUBERT: So I was, by Jove! Well, I'll charge off. Bye-bye.
He goes out of the front door.
OLIVIA (_her manner faintly hostile_): You're very observant.
DAN: Well, the ladies, you know ...
MRS. BRAMSON: If he weren't so observant, that Dora mightn't be in the flummox she is now.
DAN (_cheerfully_): That's true, ma'am.
OLIVIA (_rising_): You don't sound very repentant.
DAN (_as she crosses, stiffly_): Well, what's done's done's my motto, isn't it?
_She goes into the sun-room. He makes a grimace after her and holds his left hand out, the thumb pointing downwards_.
MRS. BRAMSON: And what does that mean?
DAN: She's a nice bit of ice for next summer, isn't she?
MRS. BRAMSON: You're a proper one to talk about next summer, when Dora there'll be up hill and down dale with a perambulator. Now look here, young man, immorality--
MRS. TERENCE comes in from the kitchen.
MRS. TERENCE: The butcher wants paying. And 'e says there's men ferreting at the bottom of the garden looking for that Mrs. Chalfont and do you know about it.
MRS. BRAMSON (_furious_): Well, they won't ferret long, not among my pampas grass!... (_Calling_) Olivia!... Oh, that girl's never there. (Wheeling herself furiously towards the kitchen as MRS. TERENCE _makes a move to help her_) Leave me alone. I don't want to be pushed into the nettles to-day, thank you ... (_Shouting loudly as she disappears into the kitchen_) Come out of my garden, you! Come out!
MRS. TERENCE (looking towards the kitchen as DAN _takes the stub from behind his ear and lights it_): Won't let me pay the butcher, so I won't know where she keeps 'er purse; but I do know, so put that in your pipe and smoke it!
DAN (_going to her and jabbing her playfully in the arm_): They say down at the Tallboys she's got enough inside of 'er purse, too. MRS. TERENCE: Well, nobody's seen it open. If you 'ave a peep inside, young fellow, you'll go down in 'istory, that's what you'll do ... (_Dan salutes her. She sniffs_) Something's boiling over.
She rushes back into the kitchen as OLIVIA _comes back from the sun-room_.
OLIVIA: Did Mrs. Bramson call me, do you know?
_A pause. He surveys her from under drooping lids, rolling his cigarette on his lower lip_.
DAN: I'm sorry, I don't know your name.
OLIVIA: Oh....
_She senses his insolence, goes self-consciously to the desk and takes out the wool_.
DAN: Not much doin' round here for a girl, is there?
No answer.
It is not a very entertaining quarter of the world for a young lady, is it?
He gives it up as a bad job. DORA comes in from the kitchen.
DORA (_eagerly_): What did she ... (_confused, seeing_ OLIVIA) Oh, beg pardon, miss....
She hurries back into the kitchen. DAN jerks head after her with a laugh and looks at OLIVIA.
OLIVIA (_arranging wool at the table_): I'm not a snob, but, in case you ever call here again, I'd like to point out that though I'm employed by my aunt, I'm not quite in Dora's position.
DAN: Oh, I hope not ... (_She turns away, confused. He moves to her._) Though I'll be putting it all right for Dora. I'm going to marry her. And--
OLIVIA (_coldly_): I don't believe you.
DAN (_after a pause_): You don't like me, do you?
OLIVIA: No.
DAN (_with a smile_): Well, everybody else does!
OLIVIA (_absorbed in her wool-sorting_): Your eyes are set quite wide apart, your hands are quite good ... I don't really know what's wrong with you.
DAN _looks at his outspread hands. A pause. He breaks it, and goes nearer to her_.
DAN (_persuasively_): You know, I've been looking at you too. You're lonely, aren't you? I could