MRS. TERENCE: If you're an invalid, I'm the Prince of Wales.
She goes back into the kitchen.
OLIVIA: Would you like me to read some more?
BRAMSON: No. I'm upset for the day now. I'd better see she does pick the right roses. (Wheeling herself, muttering) That woman's a menace. Good mind to bring an action against her. She ought to be put away…. (Shouting) Wait for me, wait for me!
Her voice dies away in the kitchen. The kitchen door closes. HUBERT and OLIVIA are alone.
OLIVIA: That's the fifth action she's threatened to bring this week. (She crosses to the right window.)
HUBERT: She's a good one to talk about putting away. Crikey! She'll be found murdered one of these days…. (Suddenly reading from his paper) "In India a population of three and a half hundred million is loyal to Britain; now——"
OLIVIA: Oh, Hubert! (Good humouredly) I thought I'd cured you of that.
HUBERT: Sorry.
OLIVIA: You've only had two weeks of her. I've had six.