ACT III
Frank : There’s no result?
Jenny : Oh, yes. When he’s hypnotised he knows everything . . . remembers Kitty and me and the war . . . but he comes out just the same . . . blank as ever.
Frank : Dear, dear, dear, dear!
Jenny (viciously) : Yes, that expresses what we all feel!
Frank : Does she come here at all?
Jenny : Yes, every day.
Frank : Is that wise?
Jenny : Wise? Wise? Frank, she’s all he’s got.
Frank : Still, Jenny, you must remember, he’s a married man and she’s a married woman. Of course, I know she’s not attractive, but . . .
Jenny : Frank, don’t be an idiot. She’s the only thing that keeps him sane. She’s marvellous.
Frank : Do you see her?
Jenny : Only when she comes and goes. They go for walks together, or sit in the garden. We’ve had lovely weather this week . . . spring at last. Frank, it’s wonderful what she does for him. He doesn’t see her as we do, as I feared he would—shabby and bedraggled. He sees her as she was . . . transformed. It’s incredible . . . but those things don’t matter to lovers. She gives him peace. You couldn’t deny him that. She mothers his soul. And there’s another thing
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