Night Must Fall : a Play in Three Acts - LightNovelsOnl.com
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MRS. TERENCE: Why, what's 'e done?
HUBERT: Exactly.
OLIVIA: I don't know, but I feel so strongly ... Is Dora there?...
(_Calling cautiously_) Dora!
MRS. TERENCE: Oh, she won't know anything. She's as 'alf-witted as she's lazy, and that's sayin' a lot. She'd cut 'er nose off to stop the dust-bin smelling sooner than empty it, she would.
DORA _comes in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n._
DORA: Did somebody say Dora?
OLIVIA: Has Dan said any more about marrying you?
DORA: No. _She_ 'asn't brought it up again, either.
OLIVIA: Does he talk to you at all?
DORA (_perplexed_): Oh ... only how-do-you-do and beg-your-pardon.
I've never really spent any time in 'is company, you see. Except, o'
course--
HUBERT: Quite. What's your idea of him?
DORA: Oh.... (_Moving to the centre of the room_) 'E's all right.
Takes 'is fun where 'e finds it. And leaves it.... Cracks 'imself up, you know. Pretends 'e doesn't care a twopenny, but always got 'is eye on what you're thinking of 'im ... if you know what I mean.
OLIVIA: Yes, I do. That incredible vanity ... they always have it.
Always.
HUBERT: Who?
_A pause._
OLIVIA: Murderers.
_A pause. They stare at her._
HUBERT: Good G.o.d!...
MRS. TERENCE: D'you mean ... this woman they're looking for?
OLIVIA: I'm sure of it.
MRS. TERENCE: But 'es's such a--such a ordinary boy--
OLIVIA: That's just it--and then he's suddenly so ... extraordinary.
I've felt it ever since I heard him sing that song--I told you--
HUBERT: That "mighty-lak-a-rose" thing, you mean? Oh, but it's a pretty well-known one--
OLIVIA: It's more than that. I've kept on saying to myself: No, murder's a thing we read about in the papers; it isn't real life; it can't touch us. ... But it can. And it's here. All round us. In the forest ... in this house. We're ... living with it. (_After a pause, rising decisively_) Bring his luggage in here, will you, Mrs.
Terence?
MRS. TERENCE (_staggered_): 'Is luggage? (_Recovering, to_ DORA) Give me a 'and.
_Wide-eyed, she goes into the kitchen, followed by_ DORA.
HUBERT: I say, this is a bit thick, you know--spying--
OLIVIA (_urgently_): We may never have the house to ourselves again.
_She runs to each window and looks out across the forest._ MRS.
TERENCE _returns carrying luggage: one large and one small suitcase_. DORA _follows, lugging an old-fas.h.i.+oned thick leather hat-box_. MRS. TERENCE _places the suitcases on the table_; DORA _plants the hat-box in the middle of the floor._
MRS. TERENCE (_in a conspiratorial tone_): This is all.
HUBERT: But look here, we can't do this--
OLIVIA _snaps open the lid of the larger suitcase with a jerk. A pause. They look, almost afraid_. DORA _moves to the back of the table._
MRS. TERENCE (_as_ OLIVIA _lifts it gingerly_): A dirty s.h.i.+rt ...
HUBERT: That's all right.
OLIVIA: A clean pair of socks ... packet of razor-blades ...
HUBERT: We shouldn't be doing this--I feel as if I were at school again--
MRS. TERENCE: Singlet ...
OLIVIA: Half ticket to Shepperley Palais de Danse ...
MRS. TERENCE: Oh, it's a proper 'aunt!
DORA: Oh, 'ere's a pocket-book. With a letter.
(_She gives the letter to_ MRS. TERENCE _and the pocket-book to_ OLIVIA.)
HUBERT: Look here, this is going a bit too far--you can't do this to a chap--
MRS. TERENCE (_taking the letter from the envelope_): Don't be silly, dear, your wife'll do it to you 'undreds of times....
(_Sniffing the note-paper_) Pooh.... (_Reading, as they crane over her shoulder_) "Dear Baby-Face my own ..." Signed Lil....
OLIVIA: What awful writing....
MRS. TERENCE (_reading, heavily_): "... Next time you strike Newcastle, O.K. by me, baby...." Ooh!
HUBERT: Just another servant-girl.... Sorry, Dora....
