MRS. BRAMSON (_inquisitive_): What are you reading, dear?

DAN (_breezily_): Only the murder again. About the clues that
wasn't any good.

MRS. BRAMSON (_suddenly_): Danny, _d'you_ think Olivia's a
thief?

DAN: Shouldn't be surprised.

MRS. BRAMSON: What!

DAN: Her eyes wasn't very wide apart.

MRS. BRAMSON (_working herself up_): Goodness me ... my
jewel-box ... what a fool I was to let her go--my earrings ... the
double-faced--

_She wheels herself furiously into her bedroom._ DORA, _her hat
and coat on, comes in from the kitchen in time to see her go._

DORA: What's up with her?

DAN (_still at his paper_): Thinks she's been robbed.

DORA: Oh, is that all.... That's the fourth time this month she's
thought that. One of these days something _will_ 'appen to her,
and will I be pleased? Oh, baby!... Where's Mrs. Terence?