Each
one turns his back on me, without any response. Everyone in mourning.
Nephew, why are you dressed in mourning?
Desmond (bowing and exiting)
Sir--
Bramble
Another fleeing mute. And you, Arabella, what have you to tell me?
Arabella (curtsying)
Not a thing, sir.
(Exit Arabella.)
Bramble
Again--hey, I beg you, Lucy, ease me of my uncertainty. Why the
mourning?
Lucy
For a costume party.
(Exit Lucy.)
Bramble
And you, Tuneless--won't you explain to me what I already begin to
suspect. If it were the Countess who was dead, then everybody would be
in mourning--right? My dear Tuneless, hide nothing from me. You are my
only confidant--
Tuneless
Well, but-- (aside) What the devil am I going to say?
Bramble
What ought I to think in seeing all this?
Tuneless
In seeing all this black clothing, you ought to think they are dressed
in black.
Bramble
Hmm! I doubt--
Tuneless
Tell me. What are you worried about? I will tell you if it is true.
Bramble
It must be, but I don't believe it.
Tuneless
Nor I, sir.
Bramble
My heart tells me enough. (hands over his eyes) My wife is dead.
Tuneless (aside)
This give me an idea. Let him believe it.
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