utside has just been lighted, and, by its gleam, is seen
the figure of RORY MEGAN, thin, pale, youthful. ANN turning at
the door into the house gives him a long, inquisitive look,
then goes.]

WELLWYN. Is that Megan?

MEGAN. Yus.

WELLWYN. Come in.

[MEGAN comes in. There follows an awkward silence, during
which WELLWYN turns up the light, then goes to the tea table
and pours out a glass of tea and rum.]

BERTLEY. [Kindly.] Now, my boy, how is it that you and your wife
are living apart like this?

MEGAN. I dunno.

BERTLEY. Well, if you don't, none of us are very likely to, are we?

MEGAN. That's what I thought, as I was comin' along.

WELLWYN. [Twinkling.] Have some tea, Megan? [Handing him the
glass.] What d'you think of her picture? 'Tisn't quite finished.

MEGAN. [After scrutiny.] I seen her look like it--once.

WELLWYN. Good! When was that?

MEGAN. [Stoically.] When she 'ad the measles.

[He drinks.]

WELLWYN. [Ruminating.] I see--yes. I quite see feverish!

BERTLEY. My dear WELLWYN, let me--[To, MEGAN.] Now, I hope you're
willing to come together again, and to maintain her?

MEGAN. If she'll maintain me.

BERTLEY. Oh! but--I see, you mean you're in the same line of
business?

MEGAN. Yus.

BERTLEY. And lean on each other. Quite so!

MEGAN. I leans on 'er mostly--with 'er looks.

BERTLEY. Indeed! Very interesting--that!

MEGAN. Yus. Sometimes she'll take 'arf a crown off of a toff. [He
looks at WELLWYN.]

WELLWYN. [Twinkling.] I apologise to you, Megan.

MEGAN. [With a faint smile.] I could do with a bit more of it.

BERTLEY. [Dubiously.] Yes! Yes! Now, my boy, I've heard you bet
on horses.

MEGAN. No, I don't.

BERTLEY. Play cards, then? Come! Don't be afraid to acknowledge
it.

MEGAN. When I'm 'ard up--yus.

BERTLEY. But don't you know that's ruination?

MEGAN. Depends. Sometimes I wins a lot.

BERTLEY. You know that's not at all what I mean. Come, promise me
to give it up.

MEGAN. I dunno abaht that.

BERTLEY. Now, there's a good fellow. Make a big effort and throw
the habit off!

MEGAN. Comes over me--same as it might over you.

BERTLEY. Over me! How do you mean, my boy?

MEGAN. [With a look up.] To tork!

[WELLWYN, turning to the picture, makes a funny little noise.]

BERTLEY. [Maintaining his good humour.] A hit! But you forget,
you know, to talk's my bus