JOHN: You’d better let him out and keep him in your room. (Another howl.) Oh, for God’s sake, James, do something. He’ll keep everybody awake. (James goes unwillingly out to the hall. A door closes.) He hasn’t changed. Always difficult. Do you think I ought to look through all these books, Fred?

BASTON: I wouldn’t bother. They wouldn’t fetch much.

JOHN: We did have some distinguished visitors. How do you pronounce C-Z-E-C-H-W-Y-I-C-Z?

BASTON: Oh, that was the Polish delegation. A disappointing lot. Very unsound on evolution.

Mrs. Callifer enters. She is in her dressing-gown.

MRS. CALUFER: I didn’t mean to interrupt. …

JOHN: Can’t you sleep, Mother?

MRS. CALLIFER: I did, for a little. Has James gone to bed?

JOHN: Yes. And we are just going. (He drops the books into the basket.) Try to sleep.

MRS. CALUFER: A book will help. (Sadly): You’ve done a lot of tidying already, John. You and Fred have been very helpful. (She goes over to the bookcase and picks almost at random.) Well, this ought to send me to sleep. Oh, I’m sorry, it’s one of yours, Fred. (She opens it and reads the dedication.) “To Henry Callifer, a great leader and a great friend.” Strange, that doesn’t sound true any longer.

BASTON: I don’t follow you.

MRS. CALLIFER: How could you, Fred? But for nearly fifty years I’ve looked after his laundry. I’ve seen to his household. I’ve paid attention to his—allergies. He wasn’t a leader. I can see that now. He was someone I protected. And now I’m unemployed. Please go to bed both of you, and leave me alone.

JOHN (standing up): You have your family, Mother.

MRS. CALLIFER: You don’t need protection, John. You’re like me, a professional protector. It wasn’t what I intended to be. But men either form us with their strength, or they form us with their weakness. They never let us be.

BASTON: Mary, you mustn’t—

MRS. CALLIFER: Poor James had to suffer. We did him a great wrong, Henry and I. Why shouldn’t he know—as much as we know?

BASTON: It would be a mistake. After all these years. And what do we know?

MRS. CALLIFER (ignoring him): I don’t want your empty spaces, Fred. I don’t want anything except Henry. Henry alive. Somehow. Somewhere.

BASTON (with a gesture of comfort): Mary—

MRS. CALLIFER: I’ve often talked so harshly of him to you, and yet I loved him.

BASTON: So did I.

MRS. CALLIFER: Please, John, both of you, go away. I’ll be all right when I’m alone. But I’m not strong enough yet for sympathy.

JOHN: Come up soon, Mother.