ANNE: I don’t know. I told him you didn’t like dogs. He’d forgotten. So he asked where he could put it, and I told him the potting shed. I said I’d show him the way, but he said I could do it for him. When I looked back, he’d gone. We’d meant to keep it a dark secret, but you would ask questions.

John, the eldest son, Anne’s father, enters through the left door. He is correctly dressed. He will only, in the event, need a black tie to be prepared for the funeral.

JOHN: Mother, do you know who’s here?

MRS. CALLIFER: James.

JOHN: I nearly ran into him.

MRS. CALLIFER: If he’s here, well—of course—naturally—he’s welcome. (James enters through the garden window. He is five years younger than John, who must be nearly fifty; in some ways he looks the elder. Life hasn’t dealt with him so well: he appears nervous and ill at ease, a stranger in his parents’ house. His clothes are less new and less suitable.) How are you, James? I’m glad you could come.

He kisses her cheek awkwardly. Then he sees Sara.

JAMES: Sara (he makes an odd movement of apology), I didn’t mean to be a nuisance. I just thought if Father …

MRS. CALLIFER: Of course you’re not a nuisance. We telegraphed for you.

Anne looks up at this lie.

JAMES: Anne telegraphed for me (nodding at Anne).

MRS. CALLIFER: I told her to, James.

Anne, with a flurry of anger, goes back into the garden.

JAMES: I see.

MRS. CALLIFER: This is Frederick Baston, James. You remember Dr. Baston.

JAMES: It’s so many years … (They shake hands with constraint.) How’s Father?

MRS. CALLIFER: It will be any moment now.

JAMES: Can I see him?

MRS. CALLIFER: Better not—at present. He’s unconscious.

There is a pause. He stands there as though surrounded by strangers as ill-at-ease as himself. Then Sara breaks the circle and goes to his side.

SARA: How are you, James?

JAMES: Oh, well, very well, Sara. And you?

SARA: Oh, I’m well, too.

JOHN: How’s the paper, old man?

JAMES: That’s well. And the bank?

JOHN: Oh—flourishing.

BASTON: How’s the weather up north?

JAMES: It was raining when I left.

A pause.

MRS. CALLIFER: I must go to Henry. (She leaves the room.)

SARA: Well, let’s sit down.

JOHN: If you don’t mind, I want to have a word with Fred—about the ceremony.

John and Baston leave.

JAMES: The ceremony! What a cold word.

SARA: Dr. Baston is reading an oration. (She points to the table.) There it is.

JAMES: My mother didn’t even let me know.

SARA: You heard what she said.