Mrs. Wharton.
I can’t understand it. She adored those boys.
Mrs. Poole.
I didn’t ask her to come and stay at the Vicarage, Norman.
Vicar.
I don’t think we’d better till the situation’s a little clearer. She gives one the impression of not caring two straws for Ned’s death. She must be as hard as nails.
Mrs. Wharton.
No, she isn’t that. I’ve known her for thirty-five years. D’you think she’s mad?
Colonel Wharton.
We’d better say a word to Macfarlane when he comes, Evelyn.