Night Must Fall | Page 9

OLIVIA): Oh, yes.
OLIVIA _moves away coldly._ DAN turns to MRS. BRAMSON.
MRS. BRAMSON (_cutting_): You smoke, I see.
DAN: Yes. (_Taking the stub out of his mouth with alacrity and taking
off his hat_) Oh, I'm sorry. I always forget my manners with a cigarette
when I'm in company.... (_Pushing the stub behind his ear, as_ OLIVIA
_crosses to the armchair_) I always been clumsy in people's houses. I
am sorry.

MRS. BRAMSON: You know my maid, Dora Parkoe, I believe?
DAN: Well, we have met, yes ... (with a grin at DORA).
MRS. BRAMSON (to DORA): Go away!
DORA creeps back into the kitchen.
You walked out with her last August Bank Holiday?
DAN: Yes.... Excuse me smiling, but it sounds funny when you put it
like that, doesn't it?
MRS. BRAMSON: You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
DAN (_soberly_): Oh, I am.
MRS. BRAMSON: How did it happen?
DAN (_embarrassed_): Well ... we went ... did you have a nice bank
holiday?
MRS. BRAMSON: Answer my question!
HUBERT: Were you in love with the wench?
DAN: Oh, yes!
MRS. BRAMSON (_triumphantly_): When did you first meet her?
DAN: Er--bank holiday morning.
MRS. BRAMSON: Picked her up, I suppose?
DAN: Oh, no, I didn't pick her up! I asked her for a match, and then I
took her for a bit of a walk, to take her mind off her work--
HUBERT: You seem to have succeeded.

DAN (_smiling at him, then catching_ MRS. BRAMSON's _eye_): I've
thought about it a good bit since, I can tell you. Though it's a bit
awkward talking about it in front of strangers; though you all look very
nice people; but it is a bit awkward--
HUBERT: I should jolly well think it is awkward for a chap! Though
of course, never having been in the same jam myself--
MRS. BRAMSON: I haven't finished with him yet.
HUBERT: In that case I'm going for my stroll ...
_He makes for the door to the hall._
OLIVIA: You work at the Tallboys, don't you?
DAN: Yes, miss. (_Grinning_) Twenty-four hours a day, miss.
HUBERT (coming to DAN'S _left_): Then perhaps you can tell us
something about the female who's been murdered?--
An unaccountable pause. DAN looks slowly from OLIVIA to HUBERT,
and back again.
Well, can you tell us? You know there was a Mrs. Chalfont staying at
the Tallboys who went off one day?
DAN: Yes.
HUBERT: And nobody's seen her since?
DAN: I know.
MRS. BRAMSON: What's she like?
DAN (to MRS. BRAMSON): But I thought you said--or somebody
said--something 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