Part 24 (1/2)

DAN (_rising with a smile and standing against the mantelpiece_): Aw, talkin's daft! _Doin's_ the thing!

OLIVIA: You can talk too.

DAN: Aw, yes! D'you hear me just now? She's right, you know, I should ha' been a preacher. I remember, when I was a kid, sittin' in Sunday school--catching my mother's eye where she was sitting by the door, with the sea behind her; and she pointed to the pulpit, and then to me, as if to say, that's the place for you.... (_Far away, pensive_) I never forgot that.

_A pause_.

OLIVIA: I don't believe a word of it.

DAN: Neither do I, but it sounds wonderful. (_Leaning over her, confidentially_) I never saw my mam, and I never had a dad, and the first thing I remember is ... Cardiff Docks. And you're the first 'oman I ever told that, so you can compliment yourself. Or the drink.

(_Laughing_) I think it's the drink.

OLIVIA: You _do_ live in your imagination, don't you?

DAN (_rea.s.suringly_): Yes.... It's the only way to bear with the awful things you have to do.

OLIVIA: What awful things?

DAN: Well ... (_Grinning like a child and going back to the sofa_) Ah-ha!... I haven't had as much to drink as all that!

(_Sitting on the sofa_) Ah-ha!...

OLIVIA: You haven't a very high opinion of women, have you?

DAN _makes a gesture with his hands, pointing the thumbs downwards with a decisive movement._

DAN: Women don't have to be drunk to talk.... You don't talk that much, though; fair play. (_Looking her up and down, insolently_) You're a dark horse, you are.

_A pause. She rises abruptly and stands at the fireplace, her back to him. She takes off her spectacles._

Ye know, this isn't the life for you. What is there to it? Tell me that!

OLIVIA (_sombrely_): What is there to it ...?

DAN: Yes....

OLIVIA: Getting up at seven, mending my stockings or was.h.i.+ng them, having breakfast with a vixenish old woman and spending the rest of the day with her, in a dreary house in the middle of a wood, and going to bed at eleven.... I'm plain, I haven't got any money, I'm shy, and I haven't got any friends.

DAN (_teasing_): Don't you _like_ the old lady?

OLIVIA: I could kill her.

_A pause. She realises what she has said._

DAN (_with a laugh_): Oh, no, you couldn't!... Not many people have it in them to kill people.... Oh, no!

_She looks at him. A pause. He studies the palms of his hands, chuckling to himself._

OLIVIA: And what was there to your life at the Tallboys?

DAN: My life? Well.... The day don't start so good, with a lot of stuck-up boots to clean, and a lot of silly high heels all along the pa.s.sage waitin' for a polish, and a lot of spoons to clean that's been in the mouths of gapin' fools that looks through me as if I was a dirty window hadn't been cleaned for years.... (_Throwing his stub into the fire in a sudden crescendo of fury_) Orders, orders, orders; go here, do this, don't do that, you idiot, open the door for me, get a move on--I was never meant to take orders, never!... Down in the tea- place there's an old white beard wigglin'. ”Waiter, my tea's stone cold.” (_Furiously_) I'm not a waiter, I'm a millionaire, and everybody's under me!... And just when I think I got a bit o' peace....