Excerpt: ...facing her) Just for a change¿. Why can't you take a bit of an interest in some other body but me? OLIVIA (taken aback): I'm not interested in you. Only you don't talk. That's bound to make people wonder. DAN: I can talk a lot sometimes. A drop o' drink makes a power o' difference to me. (Chuckling) You'd be surprised¿. Ah¿. He returns to his work. OLIVIA: I wonder if I would¿. DAN: I know you would¿. OLIVIA: I think I can diagnose you all right. DAN: Carry on. OLIVIA: You haven't any feelings ¿ at all¿. He looks slowly up at her. She has struck home. But you live in a world of your own¿. A world of your own imagination. DAN: I don't understand so very well, not bein' so very liter-er-airy. OLIVIA: You follow me perfectly well. He shrugs his shoulders, laughs, and goes on whittling. DAN: D'you still think there's been a bit o' dirty work? OLIVIA: I don't know what to think now. I suppose not. DAN (intent on his work, his back to the audience): Disappointed? OLIVIA: What on earth do you mean? DAN: Disappointed? OLIVIA (laughing, in spite of herself): Yes, I suppose I am. DAN: Why? OLIVIA (the tension at last relaxed): Oh, I don't know¿. Because nothing much has ever happened to me, and it's a dull day, and it's the depths of the country¿. I don't know¿. A piercing scream from the bottom of the garden. A pause. MRS. BRAMSON (shrieking from the other side of the house): Danny!¿ Danny! The clatter of footsteps in the garden. DORA runs in from the hall, breathless and terrified. DORA: They're diggin' ¿ in the rubbish-pit ¿ OLIVIA: Well? DORA: There's something sticking out¿. OLIVIA: What? DORA: A hand ¿ Somebody's hand!¿ Oh, Miss Grayne ¿ somebody's hand¿. She runs whimpering into the kitchen, as OLIVIA rises and runs to the left window and looks out. MRS. BRAMSON'S VOICE (calling off): Danny! DAN rises slowly, his back to the audience. OLIVIA _turns and suddenly sees him. Horror grows in her face. The blare of music....