MARIA : Are you asleep?
JOHN : Almost.
MARIA : So am I. We ought to go to bed.
JOHN : M-m.
MARIA : I like being in London again.
JOHN : M-m?
MARIA : I like being in London. Don’t you?
JOHN : M-m. It’s all right.
MARIA : Don’t you like being here?
JOHN : M-m. I like it as a city. I wouldn’t want to live here.
MARIA : Anyway, let’s get to bed.
JOHN : M-m.
JOHN : I don’t think I’ve got the energy. (Telephone rings.) Oh, no!
MARIA : You answer it.
JOHN : Hello, oh, hello. M-m, well… M-m, good… M-m… of course… M-m, well, we can talk about that. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night. Maria, wake up. We must go to bed.
MARIA : What’s the time?
JOHN : It’s eleven o’clock
MARIA : Is that all?
JOHN : Yes…
MARIA : I dreamt I was sitting on the beach and holding up an enormous shell to my ear and instead of the sound of the sea there was this noise m-m.
JOHN : I was on the telephone.
MARIA : Oh, yes. Who was it?
JOHN : Alistair Baird. He’s on the Board. Come on then. Oh, no! She’s asleep again.
