Rupert. Thank you. (Puts it straight into his own lapel.)
[Brandon brings down Rupert’s drink.
Ah—thank you. (Takes a sip.) I shan’t be long now.
Brandon. No hurry. (He looks at the clock, and then goes to cupboard in sideboard, and commences putting bottles and things away.) It’s past a quarter to, though. (Yawns.) Oh Lord, I don’t feel like driving to-night after all.
Rupert. No—there’s something in the air to-night. (He takes the Coliseum ticket from his waistcoat pocket, and very calmly pins it on the outside of his lapel.) Did you notice Sir Johnstone’s exit? (Touching ticket as though it were a flower.)
Brandon (putting bottles away. Casually.) No—what about it?
Rupert. Rather subdued, I thought. (Finishing off drink.) And pathetic. Well, well, I must be going.
[Rupert rises. Granillo is at window. Brandon at cupboard. Neither sees him. He hesitates, and then slowly hobbles to Granillo at window. Opens it and leans out.
Rupert. What’s it doing?
Granillo, S’better now.
[Rupert remains at window. Granillo comes down to chest. He looks at Brandon, who looks at him. They exchange a satisfied glance. Granillo sits om chest, hands in pockets, reeling a little. Rupert, who is still looking out of the window, suddenly shuts it and turns round, leans against the sill, and looks at them both. They still do not observe him. Then he hobbles down, and putting stick on chest, leans his face on his hands thoughtfully.
Rupert. Ah, well. And so to bed.
Brandon (putting last bottle away, and coming a little
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