THE EQUINOX
He’s a devil; I’m sure of it. I know it was his fault, some-
how.
ossory. Nonsense, nonsense, my dear! He was not even
in the car.
MRS. OSSORY. It was his car, Alfred.
ossory. You're a fool, Emily.
carr. I think Mr. Ossory means that we could hardly
hold him responsible if one of his steamers ran down a poor
polar bear on a drifting iceberg.
mrs. ossory. I know I’m quite unreasonable; it’s an
instinct, an intuition. You know Saga of Bond Street said
how psychic I was!
[During the next few speeches CARR and EUPHEMIA Ccorre-
spond by signs and winks.
GRANDFATHER. When I was in Australia forty-four years
ago there was a very good fellow of the name of Brown in
Ballarat. Brown of Buninyong we used to call him. I
remember-
MRS. ossory [bursting into tears}. How can you,
grandpa? Can’t you realise that poor Henry is dead?
GRANDFATHER. Henry dead?
MRS. ossory. Didn’t you hear? He was run over by
Mr. Todd’s motor-car this afternoon in Piccadilly.
GRANDFATHER. There, what did I tell you? I always
disliked that man Todd from the first moment that I heard
his name. Dear, dear! I always knew he would bring us
trouble.
ossory. Well, this doesn’t seem to have been his fault, as
far as we can see at present. But I assure you that I share
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