_
MRS. BRAMSON: That place in those detective books? Don't be so silly.
MRS. TERENCE: He says he wants to see you very particular--
_A sharp rat-tat at the front door.
(Going to the hall_) On a very particular matter.... (_Turning
on_ MRS. BRAMSON) And don't you start callin' _me_ silly!
_Going to the front door, and opening it._
This way, sir....
BELSIZE _enters, followed by_ MRS. TERENCE. _He is an entirely
inconspicuous man of fifty, dressed in tweeds: his suavity hides any
amount of strength._
BELSIZE: Mrs. Bramson? I'm sorry to break in on you like this. My card ....
MRS. BRAMSON (_taking it, sarcastically_): I suppose you're going
to tell me you're from Scotland Ya--(_She sees the name on the
card._)
BELSIZE: I see you've all your wits about you!
MRS. BRAMSON: Oh. (_Reading incredulously_) Criminal Investigation
Department!
BELSIZE (_smiling_): A purely informal visit, I assure you.
MRS. BRAMSON: I don't like having people in my house that I don't know.
BELSIZE (_the velvet glove_): I'm afraid the law sometimes makes
it necessary.
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