DAN: I bet you wasn't half glad, eh?

MRS. BRAMSON: You're the only one that understands me, Danny, that's
what you are----

DAN (_patting her_): That's right----

MRS. BRAMSON: I don't have to tell you everything I've been through. I
don't have to tell you about my husband, how unkind and ungodly he
was--I wouldn't have minded so much him being ungodly, but oh, he
_was_ unkind ... (_Sipping_) And I don't have to tell _you_ how
unkind he was. You know. You just know ... whatever else I've not
been, I was _always_ a great one on psychology.

DAN: You was. (_He takes her glass and fills it again and his
own._)

MRS. BRAMSON: I'm glad those other people have gone. Awful screeching
common women. Answer back, answer back, answer back.... Isn't it time
for my medicine?

_He hands her glass back. They both drink._ DAN _sits smiling
and nodding at her._

That day you said to me about me reminding you of your mother.... (DAN
_slowly begins to roll up his sleeves a little way._) These poets
and rubbishy people can think all they like about their verses and
sonnets and such--that girl Olivia writes sonnets--would you believe
it--