JOHN. What is it, dear? What is it?
PAMELA. A pearl necklace. (turning to TULLY) I suppose you don’t wear pearl necklaces, do you, Mr. Tully?
TULLY. No, no!
JOHN. I can tell you all about that, dear. I saw that in a shop window and I picked it up very cheaply. I’m sure it’s a bargain.
PAMELA. And who was it intended for, may I ask?
JOHN. Who should I buy pearl necklaces for?
PAMELA. For me—for me, I suppose. (Boiling with rage and throwing coat up to settee C.)
JOHN. Of course—naturally. Ask Tully!
(TULLY goes to chair by telephone L.C., stands perfectly still, unnerved—JOHN below table R.C. stands blinking and looking into space.)
PAMELA (goes to table down L., uncovers her hat, picks it up—goes towards door R. As she passes JOHN). Oh! (Goes to door R., opens door.) Oh! (Exits door R. Bangs door after her.)