One really
mustn't waste a life trying to shock polite politicians. There'd even be a
suspicion of swagger in it.
TREBELL. Quite so ... the bomb that's thrown at their feet must be something
otherwise worthless.
FRANCES _comes in quickly, evidently in search of her brother. Though
she has not been crying, her eyes are wide with grief._
FRANCES. Oh, Henry ... I'm so glad you're still up. [_She notices_
WEDGECROFT.] How d'you do, Doctor?
TREBELL. [_Doubling his mask of indifference._] Meistersinger's over early.
FRANCES. Is it?
TREBELL. Not much past twelve yet.
FRANCES. [_The little gibe lost on her._] It was Tristan to-night. I'm quite
upset. I heard just as I was coming away ... Amy O'Connell's dead. [_Both
men hold their breath._ TREBELL _is the first to find control of his and
give the cue._]
TREBELL. Yes ... Wedgecroft has just told me.
FRANCES. She was only taken ill last week ... it's so extraordinary. [_She
remembers the doctor._] Oh ... have you been attending her?
WEDGECROFT. Yes.
FRANCES. I hear there's to be an inquest.
WEDGECROFT. Yes.
FRANCES. But what has been the matter?
TREBELL. [_Sharply forestalling any answer._] You'll know to-morrow.
FRANCES. [_The little snub almost bewildering her._] Anything private? I
mean....
TREBELL. No ... I'll tell you. Don't make Gilbert repeat a story twice..
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