weather. ... And he killed her.... (_Smiling, looking out of the
window_) The cat doesn't believe a word of it, anyhow. It's just
walking away.

MRS. BRAMSON: Well!

MRS. TERENCE: Ooh, Miss Grayne, you give me the creeps! I'm glad it is
morning, that's all I can say....

BELSIZE: I don't think the lady can quite describe _herself_ as
ordinary, after that little flight of fancy!

MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, that's nothing; she writes poetry. Jingle jingle--

BELSIZE: I can only hope she's wrong, or it'll mean a nice job of work
for us! ... Well, if anything funny happens, nip along to Shepperley
police station. Pity you're not on the 'phone. Good morning.... Good
morning....

MRS. TERENCE: This way....

_She follows_ BELSIZE _into the hall_.

BELSIZE: No, don't bother.... Good morning.

_He goes out._ MRS. TERENCE _shuts the door after him_.

MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ HUBERT): What are _you_ staring at?

HUBERT (_crossing to the fireplace_): Funny, I can't get out of my