No wonder I’ve got an overdraft with the price of cheque books what it is. I—
MRS. S . looks in at the door
M RS. S. More flowers have come for Annie. ( Withdraws.)
LEONORA. Something’s wrong with Daphne.
ANNIE. Is she allergic to the idea of pollen?
DAPHNE dashes out, hand to mouth, YOUNG CHARLIE follows her .
CATHERINE. It’s my fault. We had a row before lunch about a nightdress and it’s given her a stomach upset.
C HARLIE. Is that young fellow helping her to be sick in the lavatory ?
CATHERINE. I suppose so. Don’t interfere. We’ve done enough damage, Charlie.
A NNIE. What does the young man do when he’s not doing his unmentionable work?
CHARLIE. Chases after my daughter. He’s the quiet type. I wouldn’t trust him.
A NNIE. Well, if she marries him, she’ll have a marvellous life. She’ll have all the say.
C HARLIE. She can’t marry him. She’s got to get her degree and show something for my money.
LEONORA. Daphne ought to be married, she’s the marrying type. She ought to have a child.
C HARLIE jumps up.
CATHERINE. Instead of going on marches.
A NNIE. What’s the matter, Charlie?
C HARLIE (sitting down). What did you say, Leonora?
L EONORA. Daphne ought to get married and have children.
C HARLIE. I thought you said a child.
L EONORA. Well, yes, for a start.
C HARLIE. I don’t think you’re well, Leonora.
CATHERINE. Charlie, be reasonable.
A NNIE. Charlie, you look as if you’ve had a frightfully bad dream.
CATHERINE. Charlie did have a curious dream last night, Annie.
C HARLIE. It wasn’t a dream.
CATHERINE. Charlie, you agreed before lunch that it was. You apologised to Leonora.
C HARLIE. I know I did. (Goes out.)
A NNIE. Was Leonora in the dream?
LEONORA. Apparently. It was a frightfully bad one.
ANNIE. Then it is you who should apologise to Charlie, Leonora. I do think if one succeeds in entering a man’s dreams one owes him a good dream. How long are you staying in London?
LEONORA. Two or three weeks. I have to go back and forward to the British Museum.
A NNIE. Haven’t you finished writing your book yet?
LEONORA. What book?
A NNIE. I forget what it was called, it was a long name. Wasn’t it entitled ‘The Ancient Assyrians, Intimate Revelations’?
L EONORA. How do you know about my book on the Assyrians?
A NNIE. Mrs. S. told me about it a couple of years ago, when you started it.
L EONORA. How did Mrs. S. know? I’m keeping it secret.
CATHERINE. Mrs. S. knows everything. I didn’t know till today.
L EONORA. Catherine, I object to Mrs. S. prying among my papers.
CATHERINE. She pries into our papers. There isn’t a thing we can do about it. In any case, the subject is not exclusive to any one scholar. As you know.
A NNIE. I think it awfully sad that you scholars have to spend years and years on research, and then find that all your theories are blown to hell by some new discovery. I’m awfully sorry about these new finds in Mesopotamia, Leonora. Two years hard labour wasted!
L EONORA. Which new finds? What are you talking about?
CATHERINE. Oh come, Annie, now you really are out of your depths. Even I see the quarterly journals, you know.
ANNIE. I’ve read about it somewhere. Now where was it? I know for a fact that it blows all your theories to hell. I’m sorry, Leonora, but you’ll have to begin again, right from scratch.
LEONORA. I think I would have heard of any sensational discoveries of that nature, Annie. As a matter of fact there are no excavations in progress at the moment, they hope to resume in—
ANNIE. I know where I saw it! It was in the Late Night Final. (Fishes in hand-bag.) Where’s that paper? Here it is! Now just a minute till I find. … Oh yes, now listen to this: ‘Sensational finds on Ancient Site: New Babylonian Writings. A young shepherd boy at Kish near the ancient site of Babylon on Tuesday narrowly escaped death by a falling boulder, and after his leap to safety noticed in the cavity revealed by the dislodged
Richard Ellis Preston Jr.