ACT II
The Scene is the same as before, and no time has elapsed.
Brandon (in same attitude). Talk about rotting bones in chests, Rupert?
Rupert. Yes.
Brandon. What about them? (Turns round and begins poking fire again.)
Rupert. Do you remember when you were an infant, Brandon?
Brandon. M’m . . . (Finishes poking fire, puts poker back and commences to wipe his hands on his handkerchief.)
Rupert. And how you used to tell me stories round the fire?
Brandon. Yes. Rather. I remember.
Rupert. Do you remember your chest complex, Brandon?
Brandon. My chest complex?
Rupert. Yes. Whatever the story was—piratical, dective, murder, adventure or ghost—it always con- ed a marvellous dénouement with a bloody chest containing corpses. You had a perfect mania for it, don’t you remember?
Brandon (suddenly a trifle serious, forgetting himself). Yes, I’d forgotten that.
Rupert (looking at him. Pause). Why should you have remembered it?
Brandon (putting handkerchief away and walking over to sideboard for whisky). Yes, it’s quite true. I remember now. What about it, though?
Rupert (lightly). Oh, nothing. Just queer, that’s all. You were a morbid child.
[ 45 ]
