MRS. BRAMSON: Tch! tch!

DAN (_reading_): "... He buried the body shallow in the open pit,
cunnin'ly chancin' it bein' filled, which it was next day, the
eleventh----" (_Nodding at_ OLIVIA) That was the day 'fore I come
here....

MRS. BRAMSON: So it was ...

DAN (_reading_): "The body was nude. Attempts had been made to ...
turn to foot of next column...." (_Doing so_) "Attempts had been
made to ... era--eradicate fingerprints with a knife...."

(_Far away, the tolling of village bells. Reading_)

"... The head was severed by a skilled person, possibly a butcher. The
murderer--" (_He stops suddenly, raises his head, smiles, takes the
cigarette stub, puts it behind his ear, and listens._)

OLIVIA: What's the matter?

MRS. BRAMSON: Can you hear something? Oh, I'm scared....

DAN: I forgot it was Sunday.... They're goin' to church in the
villages. All got up in their Sunday best, with prayer-books, and the
organ playin', and the windows shinin'. Shinin' on holy things, because
holy things isn't afraid of the daylight.

MRS. BRAMSON: But, Danny, what on earth are you--