The blare of music. The lights dim out._



SCENE II

_The music plays in darkness for a few bars, then the curtain rises
again. The music fades away.

Late afternoon, two days later._ OLIVIA _is seated above the table
snipping long cuttings from newspapers and pasting them into a ledger.
A knock at the front door. She starts nervously. Another knock._
MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen carrying a smoothing-
iron._

MRS. TERENCE: If it's them police again, I'll bash their helmets in
with this. If it lands me three months, I will.

OLIVIA: They're from Scotland Yard, and they don't wear helmets.

MRS. TERENCE: Then they're going to get 'urt.... (_Going into the
hall_) I can tell by their looks what they think. And they better
not think it, neither.

OLIVIA: And what do they think?

MRS. TERENCE (_over her shoulder_): They think it's me. I know
they think it's me.