[Sharply.] What the devil d’you mean?
Gann.
Last night when the liquor was in me I swore I’d blow your brains out and swing for it. Don’t let me ’ave the gun. I’m not fit to keep it yet. If I get on the drink again I’ll kill you.
Claude.
What the dickens d’you mean by speaking to me like that! Of course you must have your gun. I can’t allow you to neglect your work.
Grace.
[Almost in a whisper.] Claude, take care.
Claude.
[Looking at the lock.] Why isn’t it loaded?
Gann.