She goes into the sun-room. He makes a grimace after her and holds his left hand out, the thumb pointing downwards.
MRS. BRAMSON: And what does that mean?
DAN: She's a nice bit of ice for next summer, isn't she?
MRS. BRAMSON: You're a proper one to talk about next summer, when Dora there'll be up hill and down dale with a perambulator. Now look here, young man, immorality—
MRS. TERENCE comes in from the kitchen.
MRS. TERENCE: The butcher wants paying. And 'e says there's men ferreting at the bottom of the garden looking for that Mrs. Chalfont and do you know about it.
MRS. BRAMSON (furious): Well, they won't ferret long, not among my pampas grass!… (Calling) Olivia!… Oh, that girl's never there. (Wheeling herself furiously towards the kitchen as MRS. TERENCE makes a move to help her) Leave me alone. I don't want to be pushed into the nettles to-day, thank you … (Shouting loudly as she disappears into the kitchen) Come out of my garden, you! Come out!
MRS. TERENCE (looking towards the kitchen as DAN takes the stub from behind his ear and lights it): Won't let me pay the butcher, so I won't know where she keeps 'er purse; but I do know, so put that in your pipe and smoke it!
DAN (going to her and jabbing her playfully in the arm): They say down at the Tallboys she's got enough inside of 'er purse, too. MRS. TERENCE: Well, nobody's seen it open. If you 'ave a peep inside, young fellow, you'll go down in 'istory, that's what you'll do … (Dan salutes her. She sniffs) Something's boiling over.
She rushes back into the kitchen as OLIVIA comes back from the sun-room.