EMMA pauses to watch him coping with the laces, and gestures towards a nearby pair of army socks to give voice with expressive reserve.

EMMA: Nasty socks left on the fender, slouch hats up on the pianner, that I might expect. But two boots danglin’ from the lightshade—no.

ROO: Barney thought you might like them for hanging baskets. Reckons you could plant ’em with a couple of ferns, and shove ’em out on the back verandah.

EMMA snorts and returns to her chores. ROO surveys the boots he now has free.

He’s goin’ to have ’em dipped in bronze and give to Nancy as a pair of bookends.

EMMA: Any sense, you’ll keep ’em on your feet, both of you. Pretty hard to get a decent pair of boots outside the army.

ROO: [descending from the table] Pretty hard to get a decent pair inside as well.

EMMA: Dunno you’re alive. Wait until you see the sort of things they’re sellin’ in the shops these days. And what you’ll get with your discharge is not much better.

ROO: Have to have a word, then, with your Mister Bromige. Try our luck on the black market.

EMMA: Doesn’t deal in boots. And he is not black market, Mister Bromige—

A figure appears on the back verandah and raps impatiently at the French windows for admittance. EMMA shouts an automatic dismissal.

Go ’way.

BUBBA: ’S me, Bubba.

EMMA: Know that. Go ’way. [To ROO] Mister Bromige got a feeler out, that’s all. For things that might be interestin’.

ROO: [heading for the French windows] Same lurk as an octopus.

He unlatches the French windows to admit a breathless BUBBA, wearing a school uniform, overcoat and scarf, and carrying her schoolbag and hat.

What’s this, eh? A dawn raid?

BUBBA: Thanks, Roo.

She kisses his cheek in a rushed morning greeting.

Nancy said if I came in, she’d check my homework.

She moves towards the hallway.

EMMA: Isn’t out of bed yet—don’t you go upstairs now.

BUBBA: [calling upwards] Done the English, Nance, and done me Algebra! You want to see?

NANCY: [a voice from above] How about your project?

BUBBA: ’S nothin’—hygiene. I can work on it tonight.

NANCY: Alright. I’ll be down.

BUBBA: ’S cold outside. A touch of frost. [Hanging her schoolbag and hat on the newel post] Better tell Barney to wear his woolly long’uns.

BARNEY: [from upstairs] Take a whole lot more than woolly long’uns.

BUBBA: [calling] Olive?

EMMA: Olive’s busy.

OLIVE: [approaching] No, she’s not.

OLIVE appears from the direction of the kitchen. She is wearing a dress, with a pair of slippers.

Made the sandwiches. Hello, Bub.

Offering a cheek for BUBBA’s kiss:

You’re early.

BUBBA: Homework.

OLIVE: Had your breakfast?

BUBBA: Wouldn’t mind a cup of cocoa.

EMMA: Isn’t any. You drank all we had last night.