Shutting the front door, his voice dying as the chair passes the left window.
Down this way to-day….
A pause. HUBERT and OLIVIA look at each other.
OLIVIA (suddenly): What do you think of him?
HUBERT (a little taken aback): Him? Grannie's white-headed boy, you mean? Oh, he's all right. (Heavily.) A bit slow on the uptake, of course. I wish he'd occasionally take that fag-end out of his mouth.
OLIVIA: He does. For her.
HUBERT: That's true. That's why he's made such a hit with her. Funny I haven't been able to manage it. In two weeks, too … it's uncanny.
OLIVIA: Uncanny?… I think it's clever.
HUBERT: You don't think he's a wrong 'un, do you?
OLIVIA: What do we know about him?