The Mousetrap

But now, I tell you this. I complete the picture. From now on there will be no more arrivals. And no departures either. By tomorrow—perhaps even already—we are cut off from civilization. No butcher, no baker, no milkman, no postman, no daily papers—nobody and nothing but ourselves. That is admirable—admirable. It could not suit me better. My name, by the way, is Paravicini. (He moves down to the small armchair Right.)

(GILES moves to Left of MOLLIE.)

PARAVICINI. Mr. and Mrs. Ralston? (He nods his head as they agree. He looks round him and moves up to Right ofMOLLIE.) And this—is Monkswell Manor Guest House, you said? Good. Monkswell Manor Guest House. (He laughs.) Perfect. (He laughs.) Perfect. (He laughs and crosses to the fireplace.)

(MOLLIE looks at GILES and they look at PARAVICINI uneasily as the Curtain falls.)

CURTAIN

Scene II

SCENE: The same. The following afternoon.

When Curtain rises it is not snowing, but snow can be seen banked high against the window.MAJOR METCALFis seated on the sofa reading a book, andMRS. BOYLEis sitting in the large armchair Right in front of the fire, writing on a pad on her knee.

MRS. BOYLE. I consider it most dishonest not to have told me they were only just starting this place.

MAJOR METCALF. Well, everything’s got to have a beginning, you know. Excellent breakfast this morning. Good coffee. Scrambled eggs, homemade marmalade. And all nicely served, too. Little woman does it all herself.

MRS. BOYLE. Amateurs—there should be a proper staff.

MAJOR METCALF. Excellent lunch, too.

MRS. BOYLE. Cornbeef.

MAJOR METCALF. But very well-disguised cornbeef. Red wine in it. Mrs. Ralston promised to make a pie for us tonight.

MRS. BOYLE. (Rising and crossing to the radiator) These radiators are not really hot. I shall speak about it.

MAJOR METCALF. Very comfortable beds, too. At least mine was. Hope yours was, too.

MRS. BOYLE. It was quite adequate. (She returns to the large armchair Right and sits.) I don’t quite see why the best bedroom should have been given to that very peculiar young man.

MAJOR METCALF. Got here ahead of us. First come, first served.

MRS. BOYLE. From the advertisement I got quite a different impression of what this place would be like. A comfortable writing room, and a much larger place altogether—with bridge and other amenities.

MAJOR METCALF. Regular old tabbies’ delight.

MRS. BOYLE. I beg your pardon.

MAJOR METCALF. Er—I mean, yes, I quite see what you mean.

(CHRISTOPHER enters Left from the stairs unnoticed.)

MRS. BOYLE. No, indeed, I shan’t stay here long.

CHRISTOPHER. (Laughing) No. No, I don’t suppose you will.

(CHRISTOPHER exits into the library up Left.)

MRS. BOYLE. Really that is a very peculiar young man. Unbalanced mentally, I shouldn’t wonder.

MAJOR METCALF. Think he’s escaped from a lunatic asylum?

MRS. BOYLE. I shouldn’t be at all surprised.

(MOLLIE enters through the archway up Right.)

MOLLIE. (Calling upstairs) Giles?

GILES. (Off) Yes?

MOLLIE. Can you shovel the snow away again from the back door?

GILES. (Off) Coming.

(MOLLIE disappears through the arch.)

MAJOR METCALF. I’ll give you a hand, what? (He rises and crosses up Right to the arch.) Good exercise. Must have exercise.

(MAJOR METCALF exits. GILES enters from the stairs, crosses and exits up Right. MOLLIE returns, carrying a duster and a vacuum cleaner, crosses the hall and runs upstairs. She collides with MISS CASEWELL, who is coming down the stairs.)

MOLLIE. Sorry!

MISS CASEWELL. That’s all right.

(MOLLIE exits. MISS CASEWELL comes slowly Centre.)