A bomb, or something.
OLIVIA (_smiling_): I don't think that's very likely....
(_Lowering her voice_) Have you talked to Dan at all this week?
DORA: Never get the chance. 'E's too busy dancin' attendance on Madame
Crocodile....
DAN _comes back from the bedroom, his cigarette stub between his
lips.
(Going towards the kitchen_) I'm off. You don't catch me 'ere after
dark.
DAN: Why, will ye be late for courting?
DORA: If I was, they'd wait for me. Good afternoon, Miss Grayne. Good
afternoon ... _sir_.
DAN (_winking at_ OLIVIA): Are you sure they'd wait?
DORA: You ought to know.
_She goes into the kitchen_. DAN _and_ OLIVIA _are
alone_. DAN _crosses to the sofa with a laugh, humming gaily_.
DAN: "Their home addresses ... and their caresses ..."
_He sits on the end of the sofa._
OLIVIA: You've been drinking, haven't you?
DAN (_after a pause, quizzically_): You don't miss much, do you?
OLIVIA (_significantly_): No.
DAN (_rubbing his hands_): I've been drinking, and I feel fine!
... (_Brandishing the Bible_) You wouldn't like another dose of
reading?
OLIVIA: I prefer talking.
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