..
ooh! I have to sit in my kitchen and think about it.
HUBERT: Then why don't you leave?
MRS. TERENCE (_indignantly_): How can I leave, with the whole
village waitin' on me to tell 'em the latest? (_Going towards the
kitchen_) I 'eard 'er 'ead must have been off at one stroke. One
stroke....
HUBERT: Really.
MRS. TERENCE (_turning at the door_): She wasn't interfered with,
though.
_She goes into the kitchen._
HUBERT: How they all love it.... How's the old lady bearing up in the
old invalid chair, eh?
OLIVIA: She's bursting out of it with health. And loving it more than
anybody. This is my latest job--a press-cutting book. There was a
picture of her in the _Chronicle_ yesterday; she bought twenty-six
copies.
HUBERT (_taking his pipe out_): She'll get to believe she did it
herself in the end.... Is she in?
OLIVIA: She's gone over to Breakerly to interview a local paper.
HUBERT: The lad pushing the go-cart?... He's the devoted son all
right, isn't he?
OLIVIA (_after a pause_): I don't talk to him much.
HUBERT: Nice fellow.
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