The Mousetrap and Other Plays

ACT THREE

Scene I

SCENE: The same. The following morning.

When Curtain rises, the DRAGOMAN is asleep in the chair Right of the table. The ARAB BOY enters from the marquee, sweeping a small pile of rubbish before him with a long broom. He is not looking where he is going, and the broom strikes the DRAGOMAN’s feet. The DRAGOMAN wakes with a yell and chases the ARAB BOY off Right. SARAH and RAYMOND enter down the slope Left during this and watch with amusement. They move down Centre as the DRAGOMAN and the ARAB BOY exit to the marquee.

RAYMOND. Is it true, Sarah? Is it really true? You do care for me?

SARAH. Idiot!

(RAYMOND takes SARAH in his arms and they kiss.)

RAYMOND. (Crossing below the table) The whole thing is like a dream. It seems rather awful in a way—so soon after last night.

SARAH. (Moving to Right of him) Don’t be morbid. What’s the good of hypocrisy?

RAYMOND. All the same, you know, Sarah, it’s rather dreadful to be glad anyone is dead.

SARAH. Yes, I know. Your stepmother was not only an unpleasant woman, but a dangerous woman. It’s a mercy she died as she did. Frankly, it’s almost too good to be true.

RAYMOND. I know. I feel the same. It’s like coming out of the shadow into sunlight. (In a soft voice) We’re—free.

SARAH. It’s terrible that one human being should have been able to acquire such power over others.

RAYMOND. We shouldn’t have let it happen.

SARAH. My dear, you hadn’t any choice. She started in on you as young children. Believe me, I do know what I’m talking about.

(They lean on the downstage side of the table.)

RAYMOND. My learned physician.

SARAH. (Anxiously) You don’t mind my being a doctor, do you?

RAYMOND. Of course not, darling. Who am I to mind?

SARAH. Well, I rather imagined you were going to be my husband—but, of course, you haven’t really asked me.

RAYMOND. Sarah. (He catches at her.)

(SARAH eludes RAYMOND. NADINE and LENNOX enter Right. They look quietly happy.)

NADINE. Oh, there you are, Sarah. I wanted to see you. I have been talking to Doctor Gerard about Ginevra.

SARAH. Yes?

NADINE. We are arranging for her to go into his clinic near Paris for treatment.

SARAH. Yes, indeed. Doctor Gerard is absolutely at the top of the tree as a psychiatrist. You couldn’t have a better man. He’s absolutely first-class.

NADINE. He tells us that she will be absolutely all right—a perfectly normal girl.

SARAH. I think so, too. There’s nothing fundamentally in the least wrong with Jinny. It was sheer escapism that was driving her into fantasy. But fortunately it’s not too late.

NADINE. No, it’s not too late. (She looks up at the cave mouth.) The shadow’s gone.

LENNOX. It’s like waking up from a dream.

NADINE. One just doesn’t believe it can be true.

RAYMOND. But it is. She can’t harm us now. She can’t stop us from doing what we want.

(SARAH and RAYMOND move slowly up Centre during the following speech.)

(Seriously) Look here, Sarah, I’ve got to do something with my life. I’ve got to work at something—something that matters. And I don’t even know what capabilities I’ve got—I don’t know what I can do—I don’t even know if I’ve got any brains at all.

(SARAH and RAYMOND exit up Left.)

LENNOX. (Catching NADINE’s hand) Nadine. You aren’t going to leave me?

NADINE. You think not?

LENNOX. I shan’t let you go.

NADINE. Why did you never say that before?

LENNOX. Why? Why? I can’t imagine. (He crosses to Left.) What’s been the matter with me? Why couldn’t I feel like I feel today? How did she do it? Why did she have that effect on me—on all of us? Just an ordinary, rather tyrannical old woman.

NADINE. No, Lennox, she was more than that. She had—(Gropingly) power. There is such a thing as positive Evil. We’ve seen it in the world—working on nations. This was a small private instance that happened in a family—but it’s the same thing—a lust for power, a delight in cruelty and torture . . . (She breaks off.)

LENNOX. (Tenderly) Nadine—my dear. It’s all over. We’ve escaped.

NADINE. Yes, we’ve escaped. She can’t harm us now.

(COLONEL CARBERY enters on the rock from Right. He is a tall, middle-aged Englishman in uniform. He has a vacant face and seems the huntin’, shootin’ and fishin’ type, but every now and then shows disturbing shrewdness. He is carrying a small sheaf of papers. He examines the stools on the rock, looks into the cave and makes some notes. The DRAGOMAN enters from the marquee.)

DRAGOMAN. (Crossing to Left Centre) Good morning, sir and lady. I hope you sleep well in spite of sad and tragic occurrence. Very old lady, heat too much for her. You try not grieve too much. You have very fine funeral in Jerusalem—very nice cemetery there, very expensive. I take you to high-class monumental shop, have very nice memorial. You have big stone angel with wings? Or big slab Jerusalem stone and very fine text from Bible. My friend he make you very special price if I ask him. He very big man—all best dead people go to him.

NADINE. (Indicating CARBERY) Who is that up there?

DRAGOMAN. That Colonel Carbery. Carbery Pasha. Big man Transjordania. He head of Transjordanian police.

(CARBERY exits up Right.)

NADINE. (Sharply) Police.

DRAGOMAN. (Smiling) I send policeman off last night—made report. Any death got to be reported.

LENNOX. Eh? Oh, yes, of course.

DRAGOMAN. So Carbery Pasha he come himself, arrange everything. (He beams.) All ver’ official and first-class.

LENNOX. (Slowly) I think—I ought to go and speak to him.

NADINE. Yes—yes. I’ll come with you.

(LENNOX and NADINE cross and exit Right. HIGGS strolls on from the marquee.)

HIGGS. Ee, what’s to do?

DRAGOMAN. Make arrangements take back old lady’s body. Get horses for others. We leave camp this afternoon.

HIGGS. We do, do we? Ee, lad, I paid down me money for four days. I’ll want a rebate on that.

DRAGOMAN. Very sad circumstances alter cases.

HIGGS. Ee, I’ve not noticed anybody looking sad.

(LADY WESTHOLME and MISS PRYCE enter Right. LADY WESTHOLME crosses to Centre.)

(To LADY WESTHOLME) This chap says we’re going back this afternoon.

DRAGOMAN. (Moving between LADY WESTHOLME and MISS PRYCE) I take you two ladies and gentleman nice walk this morning. Show you interesting architecture and more maiden hairyfern. You see best of Petra before you go back.

LADY WESTHOLME. I think it would be extremely bad taste to go on an expedition this morning.

DRAGOMAN. (Concerned) Something you eat taste bad? You tell Abraham. Abraham scold cook.

HIGGS. No use kicking our heels here. Might as well do a bit of sightseeing. Coom on. (He moves to Left of LADY WESTHOLME and takes her arm.)

(LADY WESTHOLME jerks her arm away.)

You like your money’s worth as well as another, I’ll bet you do and all.

LADY WESTHOLME. Kindly allow me to know my own mind, Mr. Higgs.

DRAGOMAN. (Nudging LADY WESTHOLME) Very nice expedition—

(LADY WESTHOLME glares at the DRAGOMAN.)

—(Coaxingly) Very antique. Two hundred B.C. before Christ.

LADY WESTHOLME. No, Mahommed.

DRAGOMAN. Very nice expedition. Not difficult climb. Not get tired at all.

LADY WESTHOLME. I am never tired.

HIGGS. Well, if you ask me, I think it’s just ploom foolishness not to see all we can. We’ve paid our money, ’aven’t we?

LADY WESTHOLME. Unfortunately, yes. But there are certain decencies to be respected, though I am sure that it’s no good my attempting to explain them to you, Mr. Higgs.

HIGGS. You don’t think I’d understand them? I would, though. All I say is, we’ve paid our money.

LADY WESTHOLME. (Crossing to the deckchair down Right) There is really no need to go into it again. (She sits.)

HIGGS. It isn’t that you liked the old woman. Coom to that, nobody did. I’ve not noticed any signs of grieving in her family. Coom into a bit of brass, they ’ave, by the look of them.

MISS PRYCE. I so often think these things are a merciful release.

HIGGS. You bet they see it that way. And why Lady W. here should be so cut up . . .

LADY WESTHOLME. Not at all. It is simply a question of not going off sightseeing just after a sudden and unexpected death. I have no feeling of regret. Mrs. Boynton was not even an acquaintance and I am strongly of the opinion that she drank.

MISS PRYCE. (To LADY WESTHOLME) No, Arethusa. That is really a most uncharitable thing to say—and quite untrue.

LADY WESTHOLME. Don’t be a fool, Amabel. I know alcohol when I see it.

HIGGS. So do I. (Wistfully) Ah wouldn’t mind seein’ some now—but I suppose it’s a bit early.

MISS PRYCE. I feel most strongly that one shouldn’t speak evil of the dead. At any rate, my lips are sealed.

HIGGS. (To the DRAGOMAN) Hi, Abraham, ah’m coomin’ on expedition. (He crosses to MISS PRYCE) You’d best come, too.

(MISS PRYCE really wants to go, but has one eye on LADY WESTHOLME.)

MISS PRYCE. Well, really—I hardly know—it seems . . .

DRAGOMAN. I take you very nice walk. See place where Natabeans buried. Very sad—very suitable.

MISS PRYCE. A cemetery? I really think, Arethusa, that would be quite all right.

LADY WESTHOLME. You can do as you please, but I shall stay here.

HIGGS. (To MISS PRYCE) Coom on then, lass.

MISS PRYCE. I hardly know . . .

(HIGGS takes MISS PRYCE by the arm and leads her to the slope Left.)

HIGGS. Ee—coom on. I’ll look after yer. (He stops on the slope and turns.) And look ’ere, Abraham, I don’t want any maidenhair fern—’angin’ oop or down.

(MISS PRYCE, HIGGS and the DRAGOMAN exit up the slope Left. CARBERY enters Right.)

LADY WESTHOLME. Ah, Colonel Carbery, I wanted to speak to you.

CARBERY. (Moving Right Centre) Yes, Lady Westholme?

LADY WESTHOLME. I do hope you understand that there must be no unpleasantness about this business.

CARBERY. (Very vague) Now what d’you mean by unpleasantness, Lady Westholme?

LADY WESTHOLME. I am speaking diplomatically. These people are Americans. Americans are very touchy and prone to take offence. They may resent any sign of officialdom.

CARBERY. (Mildly) Well, you know, sudden death and all that—I have my duty to do.

LADY WESTHOLME. Quite. But the whole thing is perfectly straightforward. The heat here was intense yesterday. Radiation off these rocks. Old Mrs. Boynton was obviously in poor health. (She lowers her voice) Between ourselves, she drank.

CARBERY. Indeed? Do you happen to know that as a fact?

LADY WESTHOLME. I am positive of it.

CARBERY. But you’ve no evidence—eh?

LADY WESTHOLME. I don’t need evidence.

CARBERY. Unfortunately, I do.

LADY WESTHOLME. A sudden heat stroke is not in the least surprising under the circumstances.

CARBERY. No, no. Perfectly natural thing to happen, I agree. (He moves above the table.)

LADY WESTHOLME. So we shan’t be held up here?

CARBERY. No, no, I assure you, Lady Westholme. Horses will be along this afternoon, and arrangements made for removing the—er—body. We can all leave together.

(LENNOX and NADINE enter Right.)

Sit down, Mrs. Boynton. (He indicates the chairs Right of the table for NADINE and Left of it for LENNOX.)

(NADINE sits Right of the table, LENNOX Left of it. There is a pause.)

(He looks at LADY WESTHOLME.) That’s all right, then, Lady Westholme.

(LADY WESTHOLME rises and stamps off Right)

(He watches her go, smiling to himself.) Masterful woman. (He sits above the table.) Thinks she runs the British Empire. (His manner changes.) Now, Mr. Boynton, I shall want a certain amount of details from you. (He taps his papers.) Forms, you know. Curse of our age. Don’t want to worry you more than we can help.

NADINE. Of course, we quite understand.

LENNOX. Yes, we understand.

CARBERY. Deceased’s name and age?

LENNOX. Ada Caroline Boynton. She was sixty-two.

CARBERY. (Making notes) And her health hadn’t been too good, eh?

NADINE. She had congestive cardiac failure. We all knew that death might occur at any moment.

CARBERY. You put it quite professionally.

NADINE. I—I had a certain amount of nursing training before my marriage.

CARBERY. Oh, I see.

LENNOX. My mother was a sick woman—a very sick woman.

CARBERY. (Gently; with something significant in his voice) Rather a strenuous trip, this, to bring a very sick woman, wasn’t it?

NADINE. You didn’t know my mother-in-law. She was a very determined woman. If she wanted to do a thing—(She shrugs her shoulders) well, she just did it. We had to give in.

CARBERY. I know, I know. Awfully obstinate, some of these old people. Just won’t listen to reason. (He pauses.) You did all you could to dissuade her, I suppose?

NADINE. (Quickly) Of course.

CARBERY. Very distressing. (He shoots a quick sideways glance at them.) I quite realize the—er—shock—and—er—grief—it must be to you.

LENNOX. It was a great shock, yes.

CARBERY. Quite, quite.

(There is a pause.)

LENNOX. Is that all?

CARBERY. All?

NADINE. There are no further formalities to go through?

CARBERY. I’ll fix up everything as far as I can. We’ve got to get back to civilization first. There will probably have to be an autopsy.

LENNOX. (Rising; sharply) Is that necessary?

CARBERY. Well, under the circumstances—sudden death, you know. Not being attended by a doctor.

NADINE. But there are two doctors here in camp.

CARBERY. (Very vague) Well, yes, that’s true, of course.

NADINE. Surely one of them could certify the death?

CARBERY. (Rising and moving down Left) Well, I don’t know—they weren’t exactly attending her, were they?

NADINE. I believe Miss King did—talk to my mother-in-law about her state of health.

CARBERY. Did she now? Well, that might help. (Sharply) You don’t like the idea of an autopsy?

LENNOX. Frankly, no. It—it would upset us all very much.

CARBERY. Of course I understand your feeling. Still—she was only your stepmother, wasn’t she, Mr. Boynton?

LENNOX. No—yes . . .

NADINE. (Rising) They were so young when their father remarried that it was like their own mother.

CARBERY. I see. I see.

NADINE. So you will do what you can?

CARBERY. I’ll do what I can.

(LENNOX and NADINE cross and exit Right.)

(He moves above the table, raises his eyebrows and purses his lips.) I wonder now. I wonder. Interestin’.

(RAYMOND and SARAH enter quickly from the marquee, talking. They look happy and animated.)

Oh, Doctor King.

SARAH. (Moving to Left of CARBERY) Yes?

CARBERY. Just wanted a word. (He indicates the chair Left of the table.)

(SARAH sits Left of the table.)

(To RAYMOND) About your mother’s state of health, Mr. Boynton. Perhaps Doctor King could help us there.

RAYMOND. (Moving to Left of SARAH) In what way?

CARBERY. (Sitting above the table; to SARAH) I understand that you had a talk with Mrs. Boynton on the subject of her health yesterday.

SARAH. Ye-es. It wasn’t a consultation, though.

CARBERY. You mean she didn’t call you in?

SARAH. No. (She pauses. Embarrassed) Actually, I spoke to her. I—I warned her.

CARBERY. Warned her?

SARAH. Oh—of the state of her health. I—I didn’t think she took it seriously enough.

CARBERY. It was serious, then?

SARAH. Yes.

CARBERY. So you weren’t surprised when she died?

SARAH. (Slowly) No, I wasn’t surprised—not really.

CARBERY. Excuse me, Doctor King, but what do you mean by “not really?”

SARAH. I just meant—that it came so soon after my warning her.

CARBERY. What did you warn her about—tell her not to overdo it—that sort of thing?

SARAH. (After a pause) Not quite. (With a rush) I told her I didn’t think she had very long to live.

(CARBERY whistles.)

CARBERY. Do you modern doctors usually say that sort of thing?

SARAH. No. It was—quite unprofessional.

CARBERY. But you had a reason, eh?

SARAH. I thought—she ought to know.

CARBERY. Well, of course, I’m no judge of medical etiquette, but . . .

(GERARD enters quickly Right. He is upset.)

GERARD. (Moving Right Centre) Colonel Carbery, can I speak to you?

CARBERY. (Rising; to SARAH and RAYMOND) Would you mind?

(SARAH rises and exits with RAYMOND to the marquee.)

(He moves to Left of GERARD.) Well, Doctor Gerard, what is it?

GERARD. It is my duty, clearly my duty, to put certain facts before you. (He pauses.) I have with me a small travelling medicine case containing certain drugs.

CARBERY. Yes?

GERARD. This morning, on looking into it, I have discovered that one of the drugs is missing.

CARBERY. (Sharply) What drug is it?

GERARD. Digitoxin.

CARBERY. Digitoxin is a heart poison, isn’t it?

GERARD. Yes, it is obtained from Digitalis purpurea, the common foxglove. It is official in France—though not in your British Pharmacopocia.

CARBERY. I see. (He moves Left.) What would be the effect, Doctor Gerard, of digitoxin administered to a human being? (He moves to the table.)

GERARD. If a large dose—a lethal, not a therapeutic dose—if digitoxin were thrown suddenly on the circulation, say by intravenous injection—it would cause sudden death by palsy of the heart.

CARBERY. And Mrs. Boynton had a weak heart?

GERARD. Yes, as a matter of fact, she was actually taking medicine containing digitalis.

CARBERY. Then in that case the digitoxin wouldn’t hurt her.

GERARD. Oh, my dear sir, that is the layman speaking. There is a difference, as I have said, between a lethal dose and a therapeutic dose. Besides, digitalis may be considered a cumulative drug.

CARBERY. That’s interesting. (He moves above the table.) What about post-mortem appearance?

GERARD. (Significantly) The active principles of the digitalis may destroy life and leave no appreciable sign.

CARBERY. Then she may have died of the cumulative effects of digitalis legitimately given to her. By using the same drug, it means that it would be almost impossible to prove anything satisfactorily to a jury. Yes, somebody’s been rather clever.

GERARD. You think that?

CARBERY. It’s very possible. Rich old woman whom nobody loves. (He pauses.) When did you last see this stuff of yours?

GERARD. Yesterday afternoon. I had my case here. (He moves to Right of the table.) I got out some quinine for one of the natives.

CARBERY. And you can swear that the digitoxin was there then?

GERARD. Yes. There were no gaps.

CARBERY. And this morning it was gone.

GERARD. Yes. You must have a search made. If it has been thrown away . . .

CARBERY. (Taking a small phial from his pocket) Is this it?

GERARD. (Astonished) Yes. Where did you find it?

(CARBERY shakes his head at GERARD, goes to the marquee and calls.)

CARBERY. (Calling) Mr. Boynton. (He moves below the table.)

(RAYMOND and SARAH enter from the marquee and move to Left of CARBERY.)

(He hands the phial to RAYMOND.) Have you ever seen this before?

RAYMOND. (Wonderingly) No.

CARBERY. And yet one of my Arab fellows found it in the pocket of the clothes you were wearing yesterday.

RAYMOND. (Utterly taken aback) In my pocket?

CARBERY. (His manner now quite different; no longer vague) That’s what I said.

RAYMOND. I simply don’t understand what you are talking about. What is this thing?

CARBERY. It’s got a label on it.

RAYMOND. (Reading) “Digitoxin.”

CARBERY. Digitoxin is a heart poison.

SARAH. What are you driving at, Colonel Carbery?

CARBERY. I’m just anxious to know how that phial of digitoxin got from Doctor Gerard’s case into Mr. Boynton’s pocket.

RAYMOND. I know nothing about it.

CARBERY. You deny taking it from Doctor Gerard’s case?

RAYMOND. Certainly I do. I’ve never seen it before. (He tips the phial.) Anyway, it’s nearly empty.

GERARD. It was quite full—yesterday afternoon. (He takes the phial from RAYMOND and moves Centre.)

RAYMOND. (Turning a startled face on GERARD) You mean . . .?

CARBERY. (Quickly) Doctor King. Do you own a hypodermic syringe?

SARAH. Yes.

CARBERY. Where is it?

SARAH. In my tent. Shall I get it?

CARBERY. If you please.

(SARAH crosses and exits Right.)

RAYMOND. What you’re suggesting is impossible—quite impossible.

CARBERY. I’m not aware that I’ve suggested anything.

RAYMOND. What sort of a fool do you take me for? The inference is perfectly plain. You think my mother was—(He swallows) poisoned?

CARBERY. I haven’t said so.

RAYMOND. Then what do you mean?

CARBERY. I just want to know why Doctor Gerard’s phial was in your pocket.

RAYMOND. It wasn’t.

CARBERY. One of my fellows found it there.

RAYMOND. I tell you I never touched the . . . (He stops, suddenly assailed by a sudden memory.)

CARBERY. Sure about that?

(SARAH enters Right and crosses to CARBERY. She carries her hypodermic case.)

SARAH. Here you are. (She hands the case to CARBERY.)

CARBERY. Thank you, Doctor King. (He opens the case, looks at RAYMOND, then at SARAH.)

SARAH. What . . . ?

(CARBERY holds the case out.)

(She sees the case is empty.) Empty?

CARBERY. Empty.

SARAH. But—how extraordinary. I’m sure I never . . . (She stops, beginning to be frightened.)

GERARD. That is the hypodermic case you offered to me yesterday afternoon. You are sure it was in the case then?

SARAH. Yes.

CARBERY. (Crossing to GERARD) Any idea when it was taken out, Gerard?

GERARD. (Upset) I do not believe . . . (He breaks off.)

CARBERY. Now what don’t you believe?

GERARD. (Moving Right Centre) C’est impossible. C’est impossible.

SARAH. Jinny?

CARBERY. Jinny? Is that your sister, Mr. Boynton?

(RAYMOND does not answer.)

Perhaps you would ask her to come here.

GERARD. (Sharply) No.

CARBERY. (Turning a mildly surprised eye at him) She may be able to clear up the matter. If you’d just fetch her, Mr. Boynton.

(RAYMOND crosses and exits Right. CARBERY crosses above the table to Left of it.)

GERARD. You do not understand. You do not understand the very first principles. Listen, my dear sir, this girl will not be able to clear anything up.

CARBERY. But she handled this case—yesterday afternoon. (He puts the case on the table.) That’s right, isn’t it? That’s what’s worrying you?

GERARD. Jinny couldn’t possibly have used that hypodermic. It would be entirely out of character. I—ah, mon Dieu, how am I to make you understand?

CARBERY. (Sitting Left of the table) Just go on telling me.

GERARD. (Crossing and standing up Right of the table) Ginevra Boynton is at the moment in a highly abnormal mental condition. Doctor King will bear me out.

SARAH. (Moving Right) Doctor Gerard is one of the greatest living authorities on this subject.

CARBERY. (Amiably) I know. I know all about him.

(SARAH moves to the deckchair down Right and sits.)

GERARD. If Ginevra Boynton took that syringe from Doctor King’s case, she certainly did not take it for the reason you are suggesting.

CARBERY. (Plaintively) But I’m not suggesting anything. It’s you people who are doing all the suggesting.

(RAYMOND and GINEVRA enter Right. GINEVRA crosses to Left Centre. CARBERY rises and indicates the chair Right of the table. GINEVRA thanks him with a little royal inclination of her head and sits Right of the table.)

(He resumes his seat.) Just want to ask you something, Miss Boynton. There’s a hypodermic syringe missing from this case. Do you know anything about it?

GINEVRA. (Shaking her head) No—oh, no.

CARBERY. Are you sure you didn’t take it?

GINEVRA. Why should I take it?

CARBERY. Well—(He smiles at her) I’m asking you.

GINEVRA. (Leaning forward) Are you on my side?

CARBERY. (Startled) Eh, what’s that?

GINEVRA. Or are you one of them?

(GERARD makes a gesture of frustration.)

(She turns swiftly and looks at GERARD.) Ask him. He knows. He came here—he followed me from Jerusalem—to protect me. To keep me safe from my enemies.

CARBERY. What enemies, Miss Boynton?

GINEVRA. I mustn’t say. No, I mustn’t say. It isn’t safe.

CARBERY. What do you know about this hypodermic?

GINEVRA. I know who took it. (She nods.)

CARBERY. Who?

GINEVRA. It was meant for me. They were going to kill me. After dark. I should have been asleep. I shouldn’t have cried out. They knew, you see, that I’d not got the knife.

CARBERY. What knife?

GINEVRA. I stole a knife. He—(She looks at GERARD) took it away from me. I ought to have had it—to protect myself with. They were plotting to kill me.

GERARD. (Moving behind GINEVRA and shaking her by the shoulders) You must stop this playacting—none of that that you please yourself by imagining is real. You know in your heart that it is not real.

GINEVRA. It’s true—it’s all true.

GERARD. (Kneeling by her) No, it is not true. Listen, Ginevra, your mother is dead and you will lead now a new life. You must come out of this world of shadows and fancies. You are free now—free.

GINEVRA. (Rising) Mother is dead—I’m free—free. (She crosses to Right Centre.) Mother is dead. (She turns suddenly to CARBERY.) Did I kill her?

GERARD. (Rising and moving up Centre.) Ah! Mon Dieu!

SARAH. (Rising, fiercely) Of course you didn’t kill her.

GINEVRA. (Turning a mad lovely smile on SARAH) How do you know?

(GINEVRA exits Right)

SARAH. (After a moment’s stunned pause) She doesn’t know what she’s saying.

CARBERY. (Rising) The question seems to be, did she know what she was doing.

SARAH. She didn’t do anything. (She moves Right Centre.)

CARBERY. I wonder.

(LENNOX and NADINE enter Right. Their faces are anxious.)

NADINE. (Moving Right Centre) What have you been doing to Jinny? She said—she said . . .

CARBERY. What did she say, Mrs. Boynton?

NADINE. She said. “They think I killed Mother.” She was smiling. Oh!

GERARD. It all fits in. It is the instinct to dramatize herself. You have given her a new role, that is all.

NADINE. (Crossing to Right of the table) You don’t understand, Colonel Carbery. My sister-in-law is not well. She is suffering from a kind of nervous breakdown. It’s all so fantastic. Just because my mother-in-law unfortunately died . . .

CARBERY. Unfortunately?

NADINE. What do you mean?

CARBERY. It was, if you’ll excuse me for saying it, not such a very unfortunate death for all of you, was it?

LENNOX. (Crossing to Right of NADINE) What are you hinting at? What are you trying to say?

CARBERY. We’d better have it quite clear. (He pauses, moves down Left Centre a little, then speaks in a dry official voice.) Cases of sudden death, Mr. Boynton, are always investigated if there has been no physician attending the deceased who can give a death certificate. There will have to be an inquest on Mrs. Boynton. The object of that inquest will be to determine how the deceased came to her death. There are several possibilities. First, there is death from natural causes—well, that’s perfectly possible. Mrs. Boynton was suffering from a heart complaint. But there are other possibilities. There’s accidental death. She was taking digitalis. Could she have taken by some mistake—an overdose? (He pauses) Or could she have been given—(Significantly) by mistake, an overdose?

NADINE. I . . .

CARBERY. I understand, Mrs. Boynton, that it was you who habitually administered digitalis to your mother-in-law.

NADINE. Yes.

CARBERY. Is there any possibility that you might have given her an overdose?

NADINE. No. (Clearly) Neither by accident nor, Colonel Carbery, by intention.

CARBERY. Come come, now, I never suggested that.

NADINE. It is what you meant.

CARBERY. I was just considering the possibilities of accident. (He crosses to Left Centre.) So we come to the third possibility. (Sharply) Murder. Yes, just that, murder. And we have got certain evidence to support that view. First, the digitoxin that disappeared from Doctor Gerard’s case and reappeared in Raymond Boynton’s pocket.

(GERARD moves to Left of the table.)

RAYMOND. I tell you I know nothing about that—nothing.

CARBERY. Secondly, the hypodermic needle that is missing from Doctor King’s case.

SARAH. (Crossing to Right) If Ginevra took it, it was playacting, nothing more.

CARBERY. (To LENNOX) And thirdly, Mr. Boynton, we come to you.

LENNOX. (Starting) To me?

SARAH. One of your Arab fellows has found something else, I suppose?

CARBERY. One of my Arab fellows—as you put it, Doctor King—saw something else.

LENNOX. Saw?

CARBERY. Yes. Yesterday afternoon most people were out walking or else resting from a walk, Mr. Boynton. There was no one—or you thought there was no one—about. You went up to your mother as she was sitting up there. (He nods towards the cave.) You took her hand and bent over her wrist. I don’t know exactly what you did, Mr. Boynton, and my Arab fellow couldn’t see what you did, but your mother cried out.

LENNOX. (Agitated) I can explain. I—she—her bracelet had come undone. She asked me to fasten it. I did. But I was clumsy—I caught the flesh of her wrist in the hinge at the back. That’s what made her cry out.

CARBERY. I see. That’s your story.

LENNOX. It’s the truth.

NADINE. I know that bracelet. It was tight-fitting. It wasn’t at all easy to fasten.

(CARBERY nods quietly.)

LENNOX. (Shrilly) What do you think I did?

CARBERY. I was wondering whether you gave her a rapid injection. (To GERARD) Death would result, I think you said, very quickly from rapid palsy of the heart.

GERARD. That is correct.

CARBERY. She would cry out and try to rise—and that would be all.

GERARD. That would be all.

LENNOX. It’s not true. You can’t prove it.

CARBERY. There is a mark on her wrist. It is the mark of a hypodermic needle—not a mark caused by the hinge of a bracelet. I don’t like murder, Mr. Boynton.

LENNOX. She wasn’t murdered.

CARBERY. I think she was.

SARAH. It’s fantastic. You built up all this from what a few Arabs have pretended to find or to see. They’re probably lying.

CARBERY. My men don’t lie to me, Doctor King. They’ve found what they say they’ve found where they said they found it. And they’ve seen what they said they’ve seen. And they’ve heard what they’ve said they heard. (He pauses.)

GERARD. Heard?

CARBERY. (Crossing down Left and turning) Yes—heard. Don’t you remember? “One of us has got to kill her.”

CURTAIN

Scene II

SCENE: The same. The same afternoon.

When the curtain rises, the four BOYNTONS are sitting on the rock up Right, which is now in shadow. They are quite still and are lost in a stupor of despair. NADINE and GINEVRA are seated on stools with their backs to the audience. LENNOX is leaning on the rock Left of the cave mouth. RAYMOND is seated halfway up the steps. SARAH is pacing up and down Right Centre. Her hands are clenched and she is obviously fighting misery and doubt. COPE enters down the slope Left. He is fatigued and despondent. He looks at the group on the rock, then moves Centre.

SARAH. Have you got a cigarette?

COPE. (Moving to SARAH) Why, certainly. (He proffers his case.)

SARAH. (Taking a cigarette) Thanks.

COPE. (Lighting her cigarette) I suppose we shall be leaving before long.

SARAH. (Crossing and sitting Right of the table) I suppose so. I wish we had never come here.

COPE. (Crossing and sitting Left of the table) Amen to that. I’m the kind of guy who’s born to be a stooge. As soon as the old lady went west I knew my number was up. Why the heck did she have to die just then? Now—well, Nadine will never leave her husband now. She’ll stand by him now, whatever he’s done.

SARAH. (Sharply) Do you think he—did it?

COPE. Lennox is a queer guy. I’ve never been able to size him up properly. You’d say, to look at him, that he wouldn’t have the guts to do anything violent—but, well, you never know what a man’s like underneath. I’d still like to think that the old lady died a natural death. After all, she was a very sick woman.

SARAH. (Rising and looking up at the BOYNTONS) Look at them.

COPE. (Staring up at the BOYNTONS) You mean—they don’t think so? (He rises and moves to Left of her.) It—yes, it sort of gets you, the way they sit there, not saying anything. Almost Wagnerian, isn’t it? The twilight of the gods. Symbolical in a way, sitting in that shadow.

SARAH. Her shadow.

COPE. Yes—yes, I see what you mean.

SARAH. (Crossing down Left; desperately) She’s got them still. Her death hasn’t set them free after all.

COPE. (Shaking his head) I guess this has been a very trying day for all of us. Oh, well, I guess I might as well let Abraham show me where the Natabeans are buried.

(COPE crosses and exits Right. GERARD enters down Right.)

SARAH. (Crossing to GERARD) When we get back to civilization, what will happen?

GERARD. It will depend largely on the result of the autopsy.

SARAH. There’s a very strong chance that it won’t be conclusive.

GERARD. I know.

SARAH. (Desperately) Why can’t we do something?

GERARD. What do you want to do?

SARAH. That’s easy. I want Raymond. It was a battle between me and that old she-devil. This morning I thought I’d won. Now—look at them.

(GERARD looks up at the BOYNTONS, then studies SARAH.)

GERARD. (After a pause) Do you think he killed her?

SARAH. (Fiercely) No. (She crosses to Left of the table.)

GERARD. You don’t think so, but you’re not sure.

SARAH. I am sure.

GERARD. One of them killed her.

SARAH. Not Raymond.

GERARD. (Shrugging his shoulders) Enfin, you are a woman. (He crosses to Right of the table.)

SARAH. It’s not that. (With courage) Oh, well, perhaps it is. But they didn’t plan to kill her. (She moves down Left.) They may have thought of killing her, but it’s not the same thing. We all—think of things.

GERARD. Very true. All the same, one of them did more than think.

SARAH. Yes.

GERARD. The question is, which of them? One can make out a case against any one of them. Raymond actually had the digitoxin in his possession.

SARAH. (Moving and sitting Left of the table) That’s a point in his favour. If he had used it he wouldn’t be so idiotic as to leave the bottle in his pocket.

GERARD. I don’t know. He may have been quite confident that her death would be attributed to natural causes—as it would have been but for my discovery of the missing phial.

SARAH. It wasn’t Raymond. I watched his face when Colonel Carbery produced that bottle.

GERARD. Eh bien! (He sits Right of the table.) Then there is Nadine Boynton. She has plenty of nerve and efficiency, that quiet young woman. Nothing easier for her than to administer a lethal dose of digitoxin in Mrs. Boynton’s medicine. Then she slips the bottle in Raymond’s pocket.

SARAH. You are making her out a revolting character.

GERARD. Women are unscrupulous. She plants suspicion against her brother-in-law in order to be sure that no suspicion falls on her husband.

SARAH. Suspicion did fall on him.

GERARD. Yes. Is his story of the bracelet true? Myself I do not believe it.

SARAH. (Rising) What you mean is that you don’t want it to be your precious Jinny.

GERARD. (Rising, excitably) Of course it was not Jinny. I tell you it is psychologically impossible.

SARAH. (Crossing to Right) You Frenchmen! It is not at all psychologically impossible that Jinny should kill someone—and you know it.

GERARD. (Following her; excitedly) Yes, but not in that way. If she killed, she would kill flamboyantly, spectacularly. With the knife—that, yes, I can imagine it. But she would have to dramatize her act.

SARAH. Couldn’t it be someone outside altogether?

GERARD. (Moving Left Centre) It would be pleasant to think so—but you know only too well that what you say is unsound. After all, who is there? The good Jefferson Cope. But the death of the tyrannical old woman deprives him of the lady of his affection.

SARAH. Oh, it isn’t Jefferson Cope. As you say, he’s no motive. Nor have the others. But there’s you—and there’s me. You know, Doctor Gerard, I had a motive—and it is my syringe that is missing.

GERARD. And the digitoxin is mine. All the same, we did not kill her.

SARAH. That’s what you say.

GERARD. We are doctors. We save life—we do not take it.

SARAH. “Doctors differ—and patients die.” What years ago it seems when you said that to me in Jerusalem.

GERARD. Courage, mon enfant. And if I can help, remember that we are colleagues.

(GERARD exits to the marquee, SARAH moves towards the rock up Right.)

SARAH. Raymond. (She moves nearer. Imperiously) Raymond.

(RAYMOND turns his head and looks at SARAH.)

Come down here.

(RAYMOND rises, but does not come down. His manner is apathetic and he does not look at SARAH.)

RAYMOND. Yes, Sarah?

SARAH. Why don’t you stay down here and—talk to me? Why do you all sit up there by that cave?

RAYMOND. It seems—the right place for us.

(SARAH reaches up and takes RAYMOND’s hand.)

SARAH. I never heard such nonsense.

RAYMOND. (Sighing) You don’t understand. (He turns away.)

SARAH. Raymond—(She goes up to him.) do you think I believe you killed her? I don’t. I don’t.

RAYMOND. One of us killed her.

SARAH. You don’t even know that.

RAYMOND. Yes, I do. (Thoughtfully) We all know.

SARAH. But you didn’t kill her. You yourself didn’t kill her.

RAYMOND. No, I didn’t kill her. (He looks at the others.)

SARAH. Well then, that’s all that matters. Surely you see that?

RAYMOND. No, it’s you who don’t see. I suggested killing her. One of us acted on that suggestion. I don’t know which of us. I don’t want to know. But there it is. We’re all in it together.

SARAH. You won’t even fight?

RAYMOND. (Turning and smiling at her) There’s no one to fight. Don’t you understand, Sarah? One can’t fight the dead. (He sits on the steps.)

SARAH. (Moving down Centre) Oh, what shall I do?

LADY WESTHOLME. (Off Left) I can only tell you, Colonel Carbery, that I shall take it up with the Foreign Office.

(SARAH moves wearily to Right of the table and sits. LADY WESTHOLME and CARBERY enter from the marquee. They cross to Centre, CARBERY Left of LADY WESTHOLME.)

CARBERY. This is my territory, Lady Westholme, and I am responsible for its administration. To put it plainly, an old woman has been cold-bloodedly murdered, and you are suggesting that I should refrain from enquiring into the matter.

LADY WESTHOLME. There are wider diplomatic considerations to be observed. The whole thing must be dropped.

CARBERY. I don’t take my orders from you, Lady Westholme.

LADY WESTHOLME. I assure you that I shall pull strings—and that I can pull strings. Once I get to a telegraph office.

CARBERY. You will get to a telegraph office tomorrow, and you can send wires to the Prime Minister, the Foreign Secretary and the President of the United States and play cat’s cradle with the Minister of Agriculture and Fisheries if it pleases you. In the meantime, I run my own show.

LADY WESTHOLME. You will find, Colonel Carbery, that I am more influential than you think.

(LADY WESTHOLME exits angrily Right.)

CARBERY. Phew! What a tartar! (He moves above the table.) The worst of it is—(He smiles ruefully at SARAH) the damn woman’s quite right.

SARAH. What do you mean?

CARBERY. The whole thing will have to be dropped.

SARAH. Why?

CARBERY. Because there’s no evidence. One of ’em did it, all right, but as the evidence lies there’s no earthly chance of proving which one. Oh, that’s a very common state of affairs in police work. Knowledge without proof. And in this case the Westholme woman is quite right—there is an international aspect. Can’t bring an accusation against an American subject unless you’ve got sufficient evidence. We haven’t.

SARAH. (Slowly) So the whole thing will be dropped.

CARBERY. Yes. There’ll be an inquest and all that. But the result’s a foregone conclusion. They’ll go scot free. (He gives her a quick glance.) That please you?

SARAH. I don’t know.

CARBERY. (Moving to Left of the table) Well—(He jerks his thumb towards the BOYNTONS) it ought to please them.

SARAH. Ought it?

CARBERY. Don’t you think so?

SARAH. (Rising and moving Right Centre, explosively) No, no, no!

CARBERY. You’re very emphatic, Miss King.

SARAH. Don’t you see—it’s the most awful thing that could happen to them? They don’t know themselves which one of them it was—and now they’ll never know.

CARBERY. May have been all in it together. (He sits Left of the table.)

SARAH. No, they weren’t. That’s just the awful part of it. Three of them are innocent—but they’re all four of them in the shadow together—and now they’ll never get out of the shadow.

CARBERY. Yes, that’s the worst of the verdict not proven. The innocent suffer. (He coughs.) You’ve got—a special interest, I gather.

SARAH. Yes.

CARBERY. I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.

SARAH. You see—he won’t fight for himself.

CARBERY. So you’ve got to fight for him?

SARAH. (Moving to Right of the table) Yes—it began when she was alive. I fought her. I thought I’d win, too. This morning I thought I had won. But now—they’re back again—back in her shadow. That’s where she sat, you know. In the mouth of the cave there—like an obscene old idol. Gloating in her own power and her cruelty. I feel as though she’s sitting there now, holding them still, laughing because she’s got them where she wants them, knowing that they’ll never escape her now. (She speaks up to the cave.) Yes, you’ve won, you old devil. You’ve proved that death is stronger than life. It oughtn’t to be—it oughtn’t to be. (She breaks down and sinks on to the chair Right of the table.)

(There is a pause. CARBERY realizes there is nothing he can do, rises and exits to the marquee. HIGGS enters from the marquee.)

HIGGS. Aye, but it’s warm. (He crosses to Centre.)

(The DRAGOMAN enters down the slope Left.)

DRAGOMAN. Horses coming over pass. Be here in a few moments.

HIGGS. Then hurry oop and get some beer—ah’m in a muck sweat again.

(The DRAGOMAN exits to the marquee. MISS PRYCE enters down the slope.)

MISS PRYCE. What a wonderful place this is.

SARAH. I think it’s a damnable place.

MISS PRYCE. (Crossing to Right Centre) Oh, really—Miss King . . .

SARAH. Sorry.

MISS PRYCE. Oh, I quite understand. Such tragic associations. And then, of course, you are so young.

(MISS PRYCE exits Right.)

SARAH. (Bitterly) Yes, I’m young. What’s the good of being young? It ought to be some good. Youth means strength. It means life. Life ought to be stronger than death.

HIGGS. (Seriously) So it is, lass. Make no mistake about that.

SARAH. It isn’t. (She indicates the BOYNTONS) Look at them. Sitting in the shadow of death.

HIGGS. (Considering them) Aye! They look as though they’d been given a life sentence.

SARAH. That’s just what they have been given. (She rises.) Of course. That’s it. (She crosses to Right Centre) That’s what she wanted.

HIGGS. What’s oop?

SARAH. (Laughing wildly) I think I’ve got a touch of the sun. But the sun lets in light, doesn’t it?

HIGGS. (Crossing to the marquee and calling) Hey, Doctor, here’s a patient for you out here.

(GERARD enters from the marquee. HIGGS jerks his thumb at SARAH and exits to the marquee)

GERARD. (Moving Left Centre) Are you ill?

SARAH. (Moving to Right of Gerard.) No, I’m not ill. Listen, Doctor Gerard. I know who killed Mrs. Boynton. I know it quite certainly—(She touches her forehead) here. What I must do—what you must help me to do—is to get proof.

GERARD. You know which of them killed her?

SARAH. None of them killed her.

(GERARD is about to interrupt.)

Wait. I know what you are going to say—that they themselves think so. That’s what she wanted.

GERARD. Comment?

SARAH. Listen. Yesterday I lost my temper—I told her what was the truth, that she couldn’t live long. I told her that when she died, they’d be free. You know what she was like—the lust for power and cruelty had grown—she wasn’t quite sane, was she?

GERARD. She was a sadist—yes. She specialized in mental cruelty.

SARAH. She couldn’t bear what I told her, she couldn’t face the thought of their being free—and happy. And she saw a way to keep them in prison for ever.

GERARD. Mon Dieu, you mean . . .

SARAH. Yes, don’t you see? She took the digitoxin from your case. She took my syringe. She slipped the empty bottle into Raymond’s pocket, and she asked Lennox to fasten her bracelet and then cried out when she knew someone was watching them. It was clever—damnably clever—just enough suspicion against each of them. Not enough to convict one but enough to keep them believing all their lives that one of them had killed her.

GERARD. And then she committed suicide. Yes, she had the courage for that.

SARAH. She’d got guts all right. And hate.

GERARD. (Crossing to Right as he works it out) After filling the syringe she slipped the empty bottle into Raymond’s pocket—yes, she could have done that as he was helping her up to the cave. Then later she called Lennox, pretended her bracelet was undone. Yes, that too. But she made no attempt to incriminate Nadine or Jinny.

SARAH. Nadine would come under suspicion because of always giving her medicine, and she could pretty well trust Jinny to incriminate herself with her wild talk.

GERARD. (Crossing to Left as he works it out) After filling the syringe, seeing there is no one to see, she plunges the needle into her wrist—so—and dies. But no, that will not do—for in that case what happened to the hypodermic needle? It would have been found by the body. There would have been only a minute or two—not time enough for her to get up and hide it. There is a flaw there.

SARAH. (Moving up Centre) I tell you I know what happened. She’s laughing at me—somewhere—now, taunting me because I can’t prove it—to him.

GERARD. (Following SARAH) That is all you are thinking of—to prove it to Raymond? And you think he will not believe you without proof.

SARAH. Do you?

GERARD. No.

SARAH. Then I must get proof. I must. I must. Oh, God, I must.

(The jingle of harness is heard off Left. MISS PRYCE enters Right, crosses to the slope Left and looks off.)

GERARD. You do well to invoke God. It is a miracle you need. (He crosses and sits down on the case.)

SARAH. Miracles don’t happen, and there’s no time—no time.

MISS PRYCE. (Turning and moving Left Centre) Were you talking about miracles?

SARAH. (Bitterly) I was saying that miracles don’t happen.

MISS PRYCE. Oh, but they do. A friend of mine had the most wonderful results from a bottle of water from Lourdes—really quite remarkable.

SARAH. (To herself) I must go on fighting. I won’t give in.

MISS PRYCE. The doctors were really quite astonished. They said . . . (She breaks off) Is anything the matter, dear?

SARAH. Yes, that she-devil, Mrs. Boynton.

MISS PRYCE. (Shocked) Oh, really, Miss King, I don’t think . . . After all, we must remember she is dead.

SARAH. De mortias.

MISS PRYCE. Quite—quite.

SARAH. Death doesn’t make people good who have been wicked.

MISS PRYCE. Wicked is rather a strong word, dear. I always feel people who take drugs are to be pitied rather than blamed.

SARAH. I know what I’m talking about and . . . (She stops) What did you say? Mrs. Boynton didn’t take drugs.

MISS PRYCE. (Confused) Oh, really, I never meant—I mean, I thought you, being a doctor, had probably noticed the signs. I’m sure I don’t want to say anything against the poor old woman.

SARAH. Mrs. Boynton didn’t take drugs. Why do you think she did?

MISS PRYCE. Oh, but I’m afraid she was a drug addict, my dear. Lady Westholme goes about saying she drank, which of course wasn’t so at all, but I haven’t liked to contradict her because saying that anyone is a dope fiend is worse.

SARAH. (Slowly but excited) Why do you think Mrs. Boynton was a dope fiend?

MISS PRYCE. I should not dream of saying.

(The DRAGOMAN enters down the slope Left.)

There is such a thing as Christian charity.

DRAGOMAN. Abraham good Christian dragoman. All my ladies and gentleman say Abraham first-class Christian dragoman. You come now, ladies, horses all ready.

(SARAH seizes MISS PRYCE by the arm and sits her in the chair Right of the table.)

SARAH. You don’t leave here until you tell me why you think Mrs. Boynton took drugs. You can’t just hint things like that out of your imagination.

MISS PRYCE. (Indignantly) Not at all. It was not imagination. I saw her . . . (She stops.)

SARAH. You saw what?

DRAGOMAN. You come now.

SARAH. (Sharply) Shut up, Abraham.

(The DRAGOMAN exits to the marquee.)

MISS PRYCE. (Upset and rather on her dignity) Really, I did not want to mention the occurrence, it seems so unkind. But since you have accused me of imagining—well, it was yesterday afternoon.

SARAH. Yes?

MISS PRYCE. I came out of my tent—at least, not right out—I just pushed back the flap and tried to remember where I had left my book. Was it in the marquee, I said to myself, or was it in the deckchair.

SARAH. Yes—yes.

MISS PRYCE. And then I noticed Mrs. Boynton. She was sitting up there quite alone and she rolled up her sleeve and injected the dope into her arm, looking about her first, you know, in a most guilty manner.

(GERARD rises and exchanges glances with SARAH.)

SARAH. You’re quite sure? What happened then?

MISS PRYCE. My dear, it was quite like a novel. She unscrewed the knob of her stick and put the hypodermic needle inside. So of course, I knew then that it was drugs—not drink, as Lady Westholme said.

(CARBERY and LADY WESTHOLME enter Right. CARBERY beckons to the BOYNTONS. NADINE and GINEVRA rise and group with RAYMOND and LENNOX at the foot of the rock up Right.)

CARBERY. (Moving Right Centre) Miss King—Pryce. We’re starting.

SARAH. (Crossing to Left of CARBERY) Colonel Carbery, Miss Pryce has something to tell you.

(MISS PRYCE rises.)

When she was alone in camp yesterday, she saw Mrs. Boynton inject something into her own arm.

CARBERY. What’s that?

(NADINE and LENNOX move down Right.)

SARAH. (To MISS PRYCE) That’s quite true, isn’t it?

MISS PRYCE. Yes, indeed.

SARAH. After that Mrs. Boynton concealed the hypodermic needle in her stick, the head of which unscrews.

CARBERY. (Calling sharply) Aissa.

(The DRAGOMAN enters from the marquee.)

(To the DRAGOMAN) Tal a hinna. Fee bataga.

(The DRAGOMAN exits to the marquee.)

SARAH. (To RAYMOND) Oh, Ray!

(RAYMOND moves to Left of SARAH.)

We’ve found out the truth.

(The DRAGOMAN enters from the marquee with MRS. BOYNTON’s stick. He crosses to CARBERY, who takes the stick, unscrews the knob and produces the hypodermic needle, handling it carefully with his handkerchief.)

She did it herself. (She catches RAYMOND’s arm excitedly) Do you understand? She did it herself.

CARBERY. Well, that seems to clinch matters. There will be traces of digitoxin in the barrel, and in all probability deceased’s fingerprints. That, and Miss Pryce’s evidence, seems conclusive. Mrs. Boynton took her own life.

RAYMOND. Sarah!

SARAH. (Half crying) Miracles do happen. Darling Miss Pryce, you’re better than any Lourdes water.

CARBERY. Well, we must be getting along. The plane is waiting at Ain Musa. (He moves up Centre.)

(The ARAB BOY enters from the marquee. He carries a cablegram which he hands to CARBERY.)

GINEVRA. (Moving to GERARD) Doctor Gerard—I—I did invent those things. Sometimes—(Confusedly) I really thought they were true. You will help me, won’t you?

GERARD. Yes, chérie, I will help you.

CARBERY. (Handing the cablegram to LADY WESTHOLME) Lady Westholme, there’s a cable they brought along for you.

(LADY WESTHOLME opens the cable and reads it. HIGGS enters from the marquee.)

LADY WESTHOLME. Dear me. Sir Eric Hartly-Witherspoon is dead.

HIGGS. So’s Queen Anne.

LADY WESTHOLME. (Radiant) This is most important. I must return to England at once.

CARBERY. A near relation?

LADY WESTHOLME. No relation at all. Sir Eric was Member for Market Spotsbury. (Pronounced Spurry) That means a by-election. I am the prospective Conservative candidate and I may say that when I get into the House again . . .

HIGGS. Yer seem mighty sure about it.

LADY WESTHOLME. Market Spotsbury has always returned a Conservative.

HIGGS. Aye—but times is changin’ and “always” ’as a ’abit of becomin’ “never no more.” ’Oo’s yer opponent?

LADY WESTHOLME. I believe some Independent candidate.

HIGGS. What’s ’is name?

LADY WESTHOLME. (Nonplussed) I’ve no idea. Probably someone quite unimportant.

HIGGS. Ah’ll tell yer ’is name—it’s Alderman ’Iggs—and if I can keep you out of the first floor in Jerusalem—by gum—I’ll keep yer out of the ground floor in Westminster.

CURTAIN