_He shrugs his shoulders, laughs, and goes on whittling._
DAN: D'you still think there's been a bit o' dirty work?
OLIVIA: I don't know what to think now. I suppose not.
DAN (_intent on his work, his back to the audience_):
Disappointed?
OLIVIA: What on earth do you mean?
DAN: Disappointed?
OLIVIA (_laughing, in spite of herself_): Yes, I suppose I am.
DAN: Why?
OLIVIA (_the tension at last relaxed_): Oh, I don't know....
Because nothing much has ever happened to me, and it's a dull day, and
it's the depths of the country.... I don't know....
_A piercing scream from the bottom of the garden. A pause._
MRS. BRAMSON (_shrieking from the other side of the house_):
Danny!... Danny!
_The clatter of footsteps in the garden_. DORA _runs in from the
hall, breathless and terrified._
DORA: They're diggin' ... in the rubbish-pit ...
OLIVIA: Well?
DORA: There's something sticking out....
OLIVIA: What?
DORA: A hand ... Somebody's hand!... Oh, Miss Grayne ... somebody's
hand....
_She runs whimpering into the kitchen, as_ OLIVIA _rises and
runs to the left window and looks out.
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