MRS. BRAMSON (_furious_): Well, they won't ferret long, not among
my pampas grass!... (_Calling_) Olivia!... Oh, that girl's never
there. (_Wheeling herself furiously towards the kitchen as_ MRS.
TERENCE _makes a move to help her_) Leave me alone. I don't want
to be pushed into the nettles to-day, thank you ... (_Shouting loudly
as she disappears into the kitchen_) Come out of my garden, you!
Come out!

MRS. TERENCE (_looking towards the kitchen as_ DAN _takes the
stub from behind his ear and lights it_): Won't let me pay the
butcher, so I won't know where she keeps 'er purse; but I do know, so
put that in your pipe and smoke it!

DAN (_going to her and jabbing her playfully in the arm_): They
say down at the Tallboys she's got enough inside of 'er purse, too.
MRS. TERENCE: Well, nobody's seen it open. If you 'ave a peep inside,
young fellow, you'll go down in 'istory, that's what you'll do ...
(_Dan salutes her. She sniffs_) Something's boiling over.

_She rushes back into the kitchen as_ OLIVIA _comes back from
the sun-room_.

OLIVIA: Did Mrs. Bramson call me, do you know?

_A pause. He surveys her from under drooping lids, rolling his
cigarette on his lower lip_.

DAN: I'm sorry, I don't know your name.