BRAMSON: Horrors.... I'm freezing. Get me my shawl off my bed,
will you, dear?... (_As he does not move_) My shawl, dear! DAN
_starts, collects himself and smiles his most ingratiating smile._
DAN: I am sorry, mum. In the Land of Nod, I was! Let me see, what was
it your highness was after? A shawl? No sooner said than done.... You
watch me! One, two, three!
_He runs into the bedroom._
MRS. BRAMSON: Silly boy ... silly boy....
OLIVIA _comes in quickly from the kitchen. She is dressed to go out
and carries a suitcase._ Where are you off to?
OLIVIA: I--I've had a telegram. A friend of mine in London's very ill.
MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with her?
OLIVIA: Pneumonia.
MRS. BRAMSON: Where's the telegram?
OLIVIA: I--I threw it away.
MRS. BRAMSON: Where d'you throw it?
OLIVIA: I--I----
MRS. BRAMSON: You haven't had any telegram.
OLIVIA (_impatiently_): No, I haven't!
MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with you?
OLIVIA: I can't stay in this house to-night.
MRS. BRAMSON: Why not?
OLIVIA: I'm frightened.
MRS.
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