George Winter.
I’m mixing my liquors. Bad habit, isn’t it? You’ll be ravishing in black, darling. It always suited you.
[Catherine gives an inarticulate sob. George Winter, shrugging his shoulders, goes towards the door.
George Winter.
Will you promise to prevent anyone from disturbing me?
Catherine.
Yes.
George Winter.
In half an hour you can go to bed.... I hope you’ll sleep as soundly as I shall.
[He goes out and locks the door behind him. Catherine hides her face in her hands and moans with fright and horror. In a moment O’Donnell comes in. Catherine starts as she hears him.