MAX. [His head on his arms] Go ahead and take it. I am too tired.

[PHILIP goes into the bathroom. Then comes out]

PHILIP. There’s no hot water. Only reason we live in this damn death trap is for hot water, and now there’s none!

MAX. [Very sleepily] I am very sad to fail. I was certain they were coming. But they did not come.

PHILIP. Get your clothes off, and get some sleep. You’re a marvellous bloody damned scout officer, and you know it. Nobody could do what you’ve done…it’s not your fault if they call off the shoot.

MAX. [Really utterly and completely exhausted] I am too sleepy. I am so sleepy I am sick.

PHILIP. Come on, I’ll get you to bed.

[He pulls his boots off and helps him to undress. PHILIP tumbles him into bed]

MAX. The bed is good.

[He takes hold of the pillow with his arms and spreads his legs wide]

I sleep on my face, and then it does not frighten anybody in the morning.

PHILIP. [From the bathroom] Take the whole bed. I’m bunking in another room.

[PHILIP goes into the bathroom and you hear him splashing. He comes out in pajamas and a dressing gown, opens the door connecting the two rooms, ducks under the poster and goes over to the bed and climbs in]

DOROTHY. [In the dark] Darling, is it late?

PHILIP. Fiveish.

DOROTHY. [Very sleepily] Where have you been?

PHILIP. On a visit.

DOROTHY. [Who is still really asleep] Did you keep your appointment?

PHILIP. [Rolling away to one side of the bed so that he is back to back with her] The man didn’t show up.

DOROTHY. [Very sleepily, but anxious to impart news] There wasn’t any shelling, darling.

PHILIP. Good!

DOROTHY. Good night, darling.

PHILIP. Good night!

[You hear a machine-gun go pop-pop-pop a long way away through the open window. They lie very quietly in the bed and then we hear PHILIP say]

Bridges, are you asleep?

DOROTHY. [Really asleep] No, darling. Not if——

PHILIP. I want to tell you something.

DOROTHY. [Sleepily] Yes, my very dear.

PHILIP. I want to tell you two things. I’ve got the horrors, and I love you.

DOROTHY. Oh, you poor Philip.

PHILIP. I never tell anybody when I get the horrors, and I never tell anybody I love them. But I love you, see? Do you hear me? Do you feel me? Do you hear me say it?

DOROTHY. Why, I love you all the time. And you feel lovely. Sort of like a snow storm if snow wasn’t cold and didn’t melt.