DAN (smiling, suddenly normal and reassuring): That's all right
… It's only Danny …
MRS. BRAMSON: Thank God … (Going off into laughing hysterics)
Ah … ah … ah …
DAN throws his cigarette away, lays his hat on the occasional table, throws his mackintosh on the left window-seat, and sits beside her, patting her, looking round to see no one has heard her cries.
I'll never forgive you, never. Oh, my heart … Oh—oh—oh—
He runs across to the medicine cupboard and brings back a brandy bottle and two glasses.
DAN: Now have a drop of this … (As she winces at the taste) Go on, do you good … (As she drinks) I am sorry, I am really … You see, they wanted me to see them to the main path, past the rubbish-heap, see, in case they was frightened. … Now that's better, isn't it?
They are seated side by side on the sofa.
MRS. BRAMSON: I don't know yet … Give me some more….
He pours one out for her, and for himself. They drink.
All alone, I was … (Her face puckering with self pity) Just an old woman calling for help … (her voice breaking) … and no answer….