What have you
got against him?
HUBERT: Surely he's got more to say for himself to-day than when I met
him before?
MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, he's been in rare spirits all day.
HUBERT: Johnny Walker, judging by the whiff of breath I got just now.
MRS. BRAMSON: Meaning whisky?
HUBERT: Yes.
OLIVIA: I've never heard you make a joke before, Hubert.
HUBERT: Didn't realise it was one till I'd said it. Sorry.
MRS. BRAMSON: It's not a joke; it's a libel.
_A knock at the front door._
Come in.
NURSE LIBBY _enters from the front door._
The boy's a teetotaller.
HUBERT: Sorry; my mistake.
NURSE: Good afternoon. Shall I wait for you in your bedroom?
MRS. BRAMSON: Yes. I feel absolutely dead.
NURSE (_turning at the bedroom, eagerly_): Anything new _re_
the murder?
HUBERT: I believe her head was cut off at one stroke.
NURSE (_brightly_): Oh, poor thing....
_She goes into the bedroom_. DAN _returns from the kitchen,
carrying a tray of tea and cakes._
DAN: There you are, fresh as a daisy.--Three lumps, as per usual, and
some of the cakes you like----
MRS.
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