BETTY. [Quietly.] No.

HECTOR.  You can’t toast him in water, of course.  Has she cleared away yet? 
I’ll get you some Hock.

     [He puts his glass down and moves to the door at back.

BETTY.  Don’t be so silly.  I won’t drink at all.

HECTOR. [Amazed.] Not to old Walter?

BETTY. [Steadily.] No.

HECTOR.  Why?

BETTY. [Almost jeeringly.] Because—­old Walter—­has been my lover.

HECTOR. [Stopping, and staring at her.] What?

BETTY. [Calmly, looking full at him.] My lover ... these last two years.

HECTOR. [Staring stupidly at her.] He has been—­

BETTY. [Impatiently, as she taps the floor with her foot.] Yes, yes.  How often must I tell you?  My lover—­don’t you know what that means?  Why do you stare at me with those fat goggle-eyes of yours?  He has been my lover—­and now he has fallen in love with this girl and means to marry her.  That’s all.

HECTOR. [Turning towards WALTER, who hasn’t stirred from the side-table.] What?  You?

     [WALTER remains motionless and silent.

HECTOR. [In muffled tones, scarcely able to speak.] You!  It’s true what this woman says?

BETTY. [Contemptuously.] This woman!  Don’t be so melodramatic!  Have you forgotten my name?

HECTOR. [Turning fiercely to her, roaring madly.] Silence, Jezebel! [She shrinks back, in alarm, towards the fire.] Your name!  Wait a bit, I’ll tell you! [He takes a step towards her—­she crouches in terror against the wall.] You shall hear what your name is!  Just now I’m dealing with him. [He swings round to WALTER.] You there, you skunk and thief!  You, you lying hound!  I was your best friend.  So you’ve taken my wife, have you?  And now mean to go off and marry this girl.  That’s it?  Oh, it’s so simple!  Here—­come here—­sit down.  Sit down, I tell you.  Here, in this chair.  Shall I have to drag you to it?  I want to keep my hands off you.  Here. [WALTER has moved slowly towards him. HECTOR has banged down a chair behind the centre table, WALTER sits in it—­HECTOR speaks over his shoulder to BETTY.] And you—­fetch pen and ink and paper—­

BETTY. [In abject panic.] Hector—­

HECTOR. [Turning fiercely and scowling at her.] If you speak to me I’ll brain you too.  Just you go in there and fetch the things.  D’you hear?  Go. [She moves into the other room. HECTOR swings round to WALTER.] As for you, you’re a scoundrel.  A rogue, a thief, a liar, a traitor.  Of the very worst kind, the blackest.  Not an ordinary case of a husband and wife—­I trusted you—­you were my best friend.  You spawn, you thing of the gutter, you foul-hearted, damnable slug!

     [BETTY comes back, dragging her feet, carrying paper and
     envelopes and a stylograph—­she puts them on the table.