LADYANGKATELL. (Her elusive self again) Darling, darling, you don’t imagine for a moment that I shot John? (She laughs, rises, crosses to the fireplace and picks up the box of chocolates from the mantelpiece.) I did have that silly idea about an accident. But then I remembered that he was our guest. (She eases Centre.) One doesn’t ask someone to be a guest and then get behind a bush and have a pop at them. (She moves above the sofa and leans over the back of it.) So you musn’t worry, Henry, any more.

SIRHENRY. (Hoarsely) I always worry about you, Lucy.

LADYANGKATELL. (Taking a chocolate from the box) There’s no need to, dear. (She holds up the chocolate.) Look what’s coming. Open.

(SIR HENRY opens his mouth.)

(She pops the chocolate into SIR HENRY’s mouth.) There! John has been got rid of without our having to do anything about it. It reminds me of that man in Bombay who was so rude to me at a dinner party. (She crosses to the window Right.) Do you remember? Three days later he was run over by a tram.

(She exits Right. The telephone rings. SIR HENRY rises, moves to the telephone and lifts the receiver.)

OPERATOR. Your Regent call, sir.

SIRHENRY. (Into the telephone) Hullo—yes—Regent call?

(MIDGE enters Left.)

MIDGE. For me?

SIRHENRY. Yes.

(MIDGE crosses to the telephone and takes the receiver from SIR HENRY, who exits Right.)

MIDGE. (Into the telephone Right) Hullo. Is that Madame?

VOICE. No, it’s Vera.

MIDGE. Can I speak to Madame herself?

VOICE. Hold on, will you.

(There is a short pause, then another VOICE is heard through the telephone.)

VOICE. ’Ullo. This is Madame Henri speaking.

MIDGE. It’s Miss Harvey.

VOICE. Why are you not ’ere? You are coming back this afternoon, yes?

MIDGE. No, no, I’m afraid I can’t come back this afternoon.

(EDWARD enters up centre from Left and moves to Left Centre.)

VOICE. Oh, always these excuses.

MIDGE. No, no, it’s not an excuse.

(EDWARD asks by a gesture whether she minds him staying.)

(She puts her hand over the mouthpiece. To EDWARD) No—no, don’t go. It’s only my shop.

VOICE. What is it then?

MIDGE. (Into the telephone) There’s been an accident.

(EDWARD picks up a magazine from the coffee table, then sits on the sofa at the Left end of it.)

VOICE. An accident? Don’t tell me these lies. Don’t make these excuses.

MIDGE. No, I’m not telling you lies or making excuses. I can’t come back today. I’m not allowed to leave. It’s the police.

VOICE. The police?

MIDGE. Yes, the police.

VOICE. What ’ave you done?

MIDGE. It’s not my fault. One can’t help these things.

VOICE. Where are you?

MIDGE. I’m at Dowfield.

VOICE. Where there is a murder?

MIDGE. Yes, you read about it in the paper?

VOICE. Of course. This is most inconvenient. What do you think my customers will say when they know you are mixed up in a murder?

MIDGE. It’s hardly my fault.

VOICE. It’s all most upsetting.

MIDGE. Murder is.

VOICE. It’s very exciting for you. Very nice for you to be in the limelight.

MIDGE. I think you are being rather unjust.

VOICE. If you do not return today, you will not ’ave any job. There are plenty of girls who would be ’appy to ’ave it.

MIDGE. Please don’t say such things. I’m very sorry.

VOICE. You will return tomorrow or don’t dare to show your face again.

(MIDGE replaces the receiver. She is near to tears.)

EDWARD. Who was that?

MIDGE. My employer.

EDWARD. You should have told her to go to hell.

MIDGE. And get myself fired?

EDWARD. I can’t bear to hear you so—subservient.

MIDGE. You don’t understand what you’re talking about. (She moves above the sofa.) To show an independent spirit one needs an independent income.

EDWARD. My God, Midge, there are other jobs—interesting jobs.

MIDGE. Yes—you read advertisements asking for them every day in The Times.

EDWARD. Yes.

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