BARNEY makes a defensive gesture with the whisky glass and she continues with a further gurgle of laughter.

After that, you really opened up—likely mood? It was a flood. You went on to tell me how these women up and down the country kept on makin’ passes at you coz you’d been the father of two illegitimate sons at eighteen—which had somehow given them the notion you were quite a ram, and they were keen to put you through your paces. What a battle it was, havin’ to live up to this—horny reputation—and the sort of claims it made on you.

BARNEY joins in the laughter, from sheer embarrassment, and NANCY builds it with him.

And then you really topped my night. Told me just how different I was. Stymied me for good and all by numbering on your fingers what it was that made me stand out from the rest. On your fingers, numberin’ them off—one, I had the nous to realise you weren’t just a ram, but someone with a loving nature that amounted to a bloody gift. Two, I was experienced enough to know that this would put you on the spot with women, so I wouldn’t want to tie you down. And three, I had this sense of humour—

They are laughing now quite strongly.

—this terrific sense of humour—that would save me takin’ life with you as being anythin’ too—too serious.

She is unable to go on and there is a time of mutual helpless mirth, which dies away to an eventual exhaustion and a moment’s silence.

BARNEY: ’S all over, then?

NANCY: Over way back there, I think. Been coastin’ along since that time on the giggles and the laughs.

BARNEY: What’ll you do?

NANCY: World’s my oyster. I’ll find somethin’. If you’ve finished with the glass?

BARNEY pushes the glass towards her and she pours herself a whisky. BARNEY rises and starts to leave, but pauses to fumble in his pocket.

BARNEY: Might as well have this.

NANCY puts down her glass, to receive a tiny, wrapped present.

Bottle of scent.

NANCY holds up the package by the looped string of its binding.

Got it in town, while Roo was buyin’ the cape for Olive.

NANCY looks at the small gift dangling before her and adjusts her glasses as though to bring it into focus. An action that sparks an angry response from BARNEY.

Well, as you just been tellin’ me, I got—bastards in the bush. I can’t afford to lash out on no—silver foxes.

His control breaks and he turns away. NANCY looks at him, rises, and moves to take him into her arms. Holding him to her in instinctive understanding, as though he were a child. He speaks, from an unaccustomed depth of misery:

One of ours—

NANCY: I know.

BARNEY: —if it’d been—