She goes into the kitchen.
HUBERT: How they all love it…. How's the old lady bearing up in the old invalid chair, eh?
OLIVIA: She's bursting out of it with health. And loving it more than anybody. This is my latest job—a press-cutting book. There was a picture of her in the Chronicle yesterday; she bought twenty-six copies.
HUBERT (taking his pipe out): She'll get to believe she did it herself in the end…. Is she in?
OLIVIA: She's gone over to Breakerly to interview a local paper.
HUBERT: The lad pushing the go-cart?… He's the devoted son all right, isn't he?
OLIVIA (after a pause): I don't talk to him much.
HUBERT: Nice fellow. I've thought a lot about that prying into his things—pretty bad show, really, you know. (Going to the left window) I wonder if they'll ever nab him?
OLIVIA (with a start): What do you mean?
HUBERT: The fellow who did it…. Wonder what he's doing now.