booth. [commandingly.] You'll sit here, mother, of course.
He places her in her accustomed chair at the foot of the table. One by one the others sit down, edward apparently last. But then he discovers that hugh has lost himself in a corner of the room and is gazing into vacancy.
edward. Hugh, would you mind attending?
hugh. What is it?
edward. There's a chair.
hugh takes it. Then for a minute—while edward is trying to frame in coherent sentences what he must say to them—for a minute there is silence, broken only by honor's sniffs, which culminate at last in a noisy little cascade of tears.
booth. Honor, control yourself.
And to emphasise his own perfect control he helps himself majestically to a glass of sherry. Then says . .
booth. Well, Edward?
edward. I'll come straight to the point which concerns you. Our father's will gives certain sums to you all . . the gross amount something over a hundred thousand pounds. There will be no money.