PETER: [shaking hands] How do you do, sir?

ELIZABETH: And his friend, Francis Morris.

GEORGE: Very glad to meet you.

They shake hands.

ELIZABETH: Francis’s fascination with these people is only matched by my husband’s.

GEORGE: Doctor Archer’s report mentioned you two found this group. I couldn’t not come, my curiosity about them was too great.

ELIZABETH: This will be the first time you’ve seen them since you brought them back, won’t it?

FRANCIS: Yes.

PETER pours FRANCIS a glass of wine to try and calm him.

GEORGE: [looking around] And this is where they’ve been staying?

ELIZABETH: William thought they would be more comfortable here and it would make studying them easier. The woman, Angel, is in hospital, however. She has pulmonary tuberculosis. Her brother, Mac, is with her; it’s thought he may have a touch of it too.

GEORGE: So they won’t be coming tonight?

ELIZABETH: No. How was Melbourne, Francis? Francis?

FRANCIS sips his glass of wine. For a moment he is at a loss.

The job?

FRANCIS: I didn’t get it.

ELIZABETH: Perhaps next time. Have you heard the latest about Poland, Mr Ross?

GEORGE: They say Poland is about to surrender.

ELIZABETH: I can feel it in my blood. Another world war. The times are definitely out of joint. And, again, we’ll send our youth off to die.

GEORGE: If it’s necessary to fight Nazism. Would you sign up, Francis?

FRANCIS: Yes. Fascism has to be destroyed; it’s an evil philosophy. If I had been older I would have fought against it in Spain.

GEORGE: [amused] Oh, an idealist.

ELIZABETH: [looking off] Ah, here they are.

It is an extraordinary sight. BETSHEB and AYRE are dressed magnificently. AYRE wears the dress she held in her lap and BETSHEB wears a modern evening dress. STEF wears a dinner jacket. They are escorted by WILLIAM, also dressed in a dinner jacket. STEF shambles stiffly to the table, attracted by the glitter and the candles. BETSHEB guides AYRE in. Both women stop when they see FRANCIS and PETER. They are pleased to see both.

WILLIAM: [to BETSHEB] Here, I’ll take Queenie Ayre.

WILLIAM leads AYRE to the central chair. BETSHEB and FRANCIS stare shyly at one another.

BETSHEB: ’Ello.

FRANCIS: Hello.

ELIZABETH: My, how wonderful you look.

FRANCIS: You look lovely.

BETSHEB spins in her dress for everyone, delighted by the praise. She stops and smiles at FRANCIS.

BETSHEB: [quietly] The belle is spoonin’.

STEF puts his hand into one of the dips. He tastes it, then spits it out in horror.

WILLIAM: Mr Ross, I’m Doctor Archer.

GEORGE: Of course, I remember you well; that conference last year.

STEF sits on the grass and rocks back and forth, humming to himself.

WILLIAM: Actually, in only a week Stef has improved out of sight.

GEORGE: Did you find out who they are?