The Mousetrap

GILE. Eh? What d’you mean? (He comes nearer to her.)

(MOLLIE recoils, backing away down Left.)

MOLLIE. Go away. Don’t come near me.

GILES. (Following her) What’s the matter?

MOLLIE. Don’t touch me.

GILES. Did you go to London yesterday to meet Christopher Wren.

MOLLIE. Don’t be a fool. Of course I didn’t.

GILES. Then why did you go?

(MOLLIE changes her manner. She smiles in a dreamy fashion.)

MOLLIE. I—shan’t tell you that. Perhaps—now—I’ve forgotten why I went . . . (She crosses towards the archway up Right.)

GILES. (Moving to Left ofMOLLIE) Mollie, what’s come over you? You’re different all of a sudden. I feel as though I don’t know you any more.

MOLLIE. Perhaps you never did know me. We’ve been married how long—a year? But you don’t really know anything about me. What I’d done or thought or felt or suffered before you knew me.

GILES. Mollie, you’re crazy . . .

MOLLIE. All right then, I’m crazy! Why not? Perhaps it’s fun to be crazy!

GILES. (Angrily) What the hell are you . . .?

(MR. PARAVICINI enters from the archway up Right. He moves between them.)

PARAVICINI. Now, now. I do hope you young people are not both saying a little more than you mean. One is so apt to in these lovers’ quarrels.

GILES. “Lovers’ quarrels!” That’s good. (He moves to Left of the refectory table.)

PARAVICINI. (Moving down to the small armchair Right) Quite so. Quite so. I know just how you feel. I have been through all this myself when I was a younger man. Jeunesse—jeunesse—as the poet says. Not been married long, I imagine?

GILES. (Crossing to the fire) It’s no business of yours, Mr. Paravicini . . .

PARAVICINI. (Moving down Centre) No, no, no business at all. But I just came in to say that the Sergeant cannot find his skis and I’m afraid he is very annoyed.

MOLLIE. (Moving to Right of the sofa table) Christopher!

GILES. What’s that?

PARAVICINI. (Moving to faceGILES) He wants to know if you have by any chance moved them, Mr. Ralston.

GILES. No, of course not.

(SERGEANT TROTTER enters from the archway up Right, looking red and annoyed.)

TROTTER. Mr. Ralston—Mrs. Ralston—have you removed my skis from the cupboard back there where we put them?

GILES. Certainly not.

TROTTER. Somebody’s taken them.

PARAVICINI. (Moving to Right ofTROTTER) What made you happen to look for them?

TROTTER. The snow is still lying. I need help here, reinforcements. I was going to ski over to the police station at Market Hampton to report on the situation.

PARAVICINI. And now you can’t—dear, dear . . . Somebody’s seen to it that you certainly shan’t do that. But there could be another reason, couldn’t there?

TROTTER. Yes, what?

PARAVICINI. Somebody may want to get away.

GILES. (Moving to Right ofMOLLIE; to her) What did you mean when you said “Christopher” just now?

MOLLIE. Nothing.

PARAVICINI. (Chuckling) So our young architect has hooked it, has he? Very, very interesting.

TROTTER. Is this true, Mrs. Ralston? (He moves to Centre of the refectory table.)

(CHRISTOPHER enters from the stairs Left and comes to Left of the sofa.)

MOLLIE. (Moving slightly Left) Oh, thank goodness. You haven’t gone, after all.

TROTTER. (Crossing to Right ofCHRISTOPHER) Did you take my skis, Mr. Wren?

CHRISTOPHER. (Surprised) Your skis, Sergeant? No, why should I?

TROTTER. Mrs. Ralston seemed to think . . . (He looks at MOLLIE.)

MOLLIE. Mr. Wren is very fond of skiing. I thought he might have taken them just to—get a little exercise.

GILES. Exercise? (He moves up to Centre of the refectory table.)

TROTTER. Now, listen, you people. This is a serious matter. Somebody has removed my only chance of communication with the outside world. I want everybody here—at once.

PARAVICINI. I think Miss Casewell has gone upstairs.

MOLLIE. I’ll get her.

(MOLLIE exits up the stairs. TROTTER moves to Left of the arch up Left.)