Henry Wood? Who's Mrs. Henry Wood? Pack the other
half of Mrs. Henry Wood? What are you talking about?
OLIVIA: She wrote your favourite book--_East Lynne_.
MRS. BRAMSON (_looking at her book_): Oh ... (_Picking a paper
out of it_.) What's this? (_Reading ponderously_) A sonnet.
"The flame of passion is not red but white, not quick but slow--"
OLIVIA (_going to her and snatching it from her with a cry_):
Don't!
MRS. BRAMSON: Writing poetry! That's a hobby and a half, I must say!
"Flame of passion ..." _well!_
OLIVIA (_crossing to the fireplace_): It's only a silly poem I
amused myself with at college. It's not meant for anybody but me.
MRS. BRAMSON: You're a dark horse, you are.
MRS. TERENCE _enters from the kitchen. She is the cook, middle-aged,
Cockney, and fearless. She carries a bunch of roses_.
MRS. TERENCE (_grimly_): Would you be wanting anything?
MRS. BRAMSON: Yes. Clear away.
MRS. TERENCE: That's Dora's job. Where's Dora?
OLIVIA: She's gone into the clearing for some firewood.
MRS. BRAMSON: You can't expect the girl to gather firewood with one
hand and clear breakfast with the other.
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