He returns to his newspaper searching, as BUBBA makes a beeline for OLIVE, to be greeted with her usual warmth.

OLIVE: Hullo, love.

BUBBA: Made me bring back all the stuff from up North, Ol. Coz of last night—

OLIVE: [slipping an arm around her] Well, bound to be a bit upset.

OLIVE’s reaction to events of the previous night is a conscious determination to rise above all consequences.

BUBBA: Even when I said that Roo could have concussion, mightn’t be responsible, didn’t make no difference. Still went on about the fire, and—

OLIVE: Never mind.

She walks BUBBA to the box of souvenirs.

You leave those things here with us. You can get ’em in a day or two. When things have—

BUBBA: [agitatedly] No. I can’t. Auntie Dee says I am not allowed to come in here again.

OLIVE: Well, you know Auntie Dee.

BUBBA: But Auntie Maureen says the same. I’ve got to stay away and work on my exams.

OLIVE: Look, you go home, I’ll drop in a little later. Talk to them, and straighten things out.

BUBBA: Think you can?

OLIVE: I’ll smooge round them.

She guides BUBBA towards the French windows.

Say how sorry everybody is, and—

BUBBA: How about Roo? Barney said—

OLIVE: Right as rain. Nothin’ wrong with Roo. You can see him after.

BUBBA: Thanks, Ol. Knew you’d—golly. Been so worried.

She hugs OLIVE with relief and goes. OLIVE closes the French windows, and BARNEY brandishes his newspaper.

BARNEY: I went down and got the mornin’ papers. See if there was anythin’ ’bout the Melrose. Reckon them three sergeants must’ve cottoned on—any fuss’d make the lot of them look pretty silly.

OLIVE: Good. Helps to have a little sense. And to use it. [Abruptly] Like this idea you’ve got in your head—Nancy has her eye on someone else, some other feller. Isn’t true.

BARNEY: Oh, c’mon. The runnin’ around the town she’s done? Could be any one of half a dozen—

OLIVE: Nancy ran around the town for the same reason that she started drinkin’ whisky. So she wouldn’t have to think of you—lyin’ wounded on a beach somewhere, or crawlin’ through the jungle with a broken leg all covered in leeches. She wants to talk of options now, doesn’t mean she’s got her eye on someone else. Only means the war has tired her out, and she needs to catch her breath a little.

BARNEY: You on her side?

OLIVE: ’Course I’m on her side. The least that we can do is listen to what she has to say. And if it’s walkin’ out of here to find some other life for herself—goin’ back to millinery, f’r instance—used to have a joke, the two of us opening up a hat shop, Melbourne Modes, in Howey Court—if it’s anythin’ like that, it’s up to us to talk to her. Make her see it’s just as much a joke now as it was then, and to laugh her out of it.