Here. [WALTER _has moved slowly towards him._ HECTOR _has banged down a
chair behind the centre table,_ WALTER _sits in it_--HECTOR _speaks over
his shoulder to_ BETTY.] And you--fetch pen and ink and paper--

BETTY. [_In abject panic._] Hector--

HECTOR. [_Turning fiercely and scowling at her._] If you speak to me I'll
brain you too. Just you go in there and fetch the things. D'you hear? Go.
[_She moves into the other room._ HECTOR _swings round to_ WALTER.] As for
you, you're a scoundrel. A rogue, a thief, a liar, a traitor. Of the very
worst kind, the blackest. Not an ordinary case of a husband and wife--I
trusted you--you were my best friend. You spawn, you thing of the gutter,
you foul-hearted, damnable slug!

[BETTY _comes back, dragging her feet, carrying paper and
envelopes and a stylograph--she puts them on the table._

HECTOR. Not that stylograph--that's mine--his dirty hands shan't touch
it--I could never use it again. Fetch _your_ pen--yours--you belong to
him, don't you? Go in and fetch it. D'you hear?

[BETTY _goes into the inner room again._

HECTOR. My wife. And you the man I've done more for than for any one else
in the world. The man I cared for, you low dog. Used my house--came here
because it was dull at the Club--and took my wife? I don't know why I
don't kill you. I've the right. But I won't. You shall pay for it, my fine
fellow--you are going to pay--now.

[BETTY _brings a pen and an inkstand; she places them on the