Part 7 (2/2)
OLIVIA: Of course it wasn't.
DORA (_relieved_): Oh.... Please, mum, 'e's 'ere.
MRS. BRAMSON: Who?
DORA: My boy fr--my gentleman friend, ma'am, from the Tallboys.
MRS. BRAMSON: I'm ready for him. (_Waving aside the wool which_ OLIVIA _brings to her_) The sooner he's made to realise what his duty _is_, the better. _I_'ll give him baby-face!
DORA: Thank you, ma'am.
_She goes out through the front door._
HUBERT: What gentleman? What duty?
OLIVIA: The maid's going to have a baby. (_She crosses and puts the wool in the cupboard of the desk._)
HUBERT: Is she, by Jove!... Don't look at me like that, Mrs. Bramson!
I've only been in the county two weeks.... But is _he_ from the Tallboys?
MRS. BRAMSON: A page-boy or something of the sort.
DORA _comes back to the front door, looks back, and beckons. She is followed by_ DAN, _who saunters past her into the room. He is a young fellow wearing a blue pill-box hat, uniform trousers, a jacket too small for him, and bicycle-clips: the stub of a cigarette dangles between his lips. He speaks with a rough accent, indeterminate, but more Welsh than anything else.
His personality varies very considerably as the play proceeds: the impression he gives at the moment is one of totally disarming good humour and childlike unself-consciousness. It would need a very close observer to suspect that there is something wrong somewhere--that this personality is completely a.s.sumed._ DORA _shuts the front door and comes to the back of the sofa._
MRS. BRAMSON (_sternly_): Well?
DAN (_saluting_): Mornin', all!
MRS. BRAMSON: So you're Baby-face?
DAN: That's me. (_Grinning._) Silly name, isn't it? (_After a pause._) I must apologise to all and sundry for this fancy dress, but it's my working togs. I been on duty this mornin', and my hands isn't very clean. You see, I didn't know as it was going to be a party.
MRS. BRAMSON: Party?
DAN (_looking at_ OLIVIA): Well, it's ladies, isn't it?
HUBERT: Are you shy with ladies?
DAN (_smiling at_ OLIVIA): Oh, yes.
OLIVIA _moves away coldly._ DAN _turns to_ MRS. BRAMSON.
MRS. BRAMSON (_cutting_): You smoke, I see.
DAN: Yes. (_Taking the stub out of his mouth with alacrity and taking off his hat_) Oh, I'm sorry. I always forget my manners with a cigarette when I'm in company.... (_Pus.h.i.+ng the stub behind his ear, as_ OLIVIA _crosses to the armchair_) I always been clumsy in people's houses. I am sorry.
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