BASTON: It was before they built the dye factory. You could understand then why the house was called Wild Grove. There was a wood of beech and wild-nut trees where the housing development is. I remember I hit a six into the River Wandle.

JAMES: I must have been nearly eight that summer. (He sits with the book on his knees, thinking.)

John discards more papers into the wastepaper basket.

SARA (closing her book): I think I’ll go to bed. Are you coming, Anne?

ANNE: No, I want to finish the chapter.

SARA: It’s long past your bedtime.

BASTON: It was so hot we all played in bathing drawers. What happy times those were!

ANNE: I won’t be long, Aunt Sara.

SARA (pauses by the men as she goes out): I thought your oration was spoken very well, Dr. Baston.

BASTON: Thank you, my dear.

SARA: Are you really going tomorrow, James?

JAMES: Yes, I have to.

SARA: I’ll see you in the morning?

JAMES: I’m leaving very early.

SARA: I’ll get up. (She touches his hair with her hand.) Good night, dear.

JAMES: Good night, Sara. (He stares down at the visitors’ book without looking up. She goes slowly out.)

BASTON: I thought of that game this afternoon. We were in the same field. You children called your father the demon bowler. He bowled underarm, but very fast.

JOHN: Yes, I remember. With a tennis ball!

JAMES (after a pause): I don’t remember.

JOHN: Poor Father! Here are the expenses of a holiday in France in 1910. Bottle of red wine, one franc fifty centimes. Filed for future reference.

JAMES (opening another of the books): Nineteen twenty-five—that was the year I was ill, the year I went away to school. Who’s William Callifer?

BASTON: Don’t you even remember your own uncle?

JAMES: No. Didn’t he get a telegram either—or is he dead?

Anne looks sharply up.

JOHN: Father never had much to do with him.

JAMES (turning the pages): He was here for three days that autumn.

BASTON: It was the last time. He behaved rather badly.

JOHN: It was bad enough to have a convert in the family—but when he became a priest …

JAMES: I’m glad I’m not the only pariah among the Callifers. (He puts the book down.)

JOHN: Bertrand Russell again. I hope he was worth his meal ticket.

Anne closes her book and comes over.

BASTON: How are the vows, Anne?

ANNE (she pointedly ignores so silly a question): Uncle James, if I put out some water in the hall, will you take it to the potting shed?

JAMES (uneasy): The potting shed?

ANNE: To your dog, stupid.

JAMES: Couldn’t you do it for me? You’ve been looking after him.

ANNE: I think Spot would prefer you, after what happened this afternoon. If I go now, he’ll think he’s still in disgrace. Granny was so angry.