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Brent?
    BLORE . I tell you that woman is as mad as a hatter. Religious mad, I tell you—she’s the one. And we must watch her.
    WARGRAVE . Really? I had formed the impression that your suspicions were in a different quarter.
    BLORE . Yes—But I’ve changed my mind, and I’ll tell you for why—she’s not scared and she’s the only one who isn’t. Why? Because she knows quite well she’s in no danger—hush—
    ( WARGRAVE goes up Right. VERA and EMILY enter from Left 2. VERA is carrying coffee tray. EMILY up Centre. )
    VERA . We’ve made some coffee. ( She puts tray on tabouret Right Centre. BLORE moves up to tabouret ) Brr—it’s cold in here.
    BLORE . You’d hardly believe it when you think what a beautiful day it was this morning.
    VERA . Are Captain Lombard and Rogers still out?
    BLORE . Yes. No boat will put out in this—and it couldn’t land, anyway.
    VERA . Miss Brent’s. ( Hands coffee cup to BLORE .)
    ( EMILY comes down; sits Left sofa. )
    WARGRAVE . Allow me. ( Takes cup and hands it to EMILY .)
    VERA . ( To WARGRAVE ) You were right to insist on our going to lunch—and drinking some brandy with it. I feel better.
    WARGRAVE . ( Returns to coffee tray—takes his own coffee; stands by mantelpiece ) The Court always adjourns for lunch.
    VERA . All the same, it’s a nightmare. It seems as though it can’t be true. What—what are we going to do about it?
    ( BLORE sits chair Right Centre. )
    WARGRAVE . We must hold an informal Court of Enquiry. We may at least be able to eliminate some innocent people.
    BLORE . You haven’t got a hunch of any kind, have you, Miss Claythorne?
    WARGRAVE . If Miss Claythorne suspects one of us three, that is rather an awkward question.
    VERA . I’m sure it isn’t any of you. If you ask me who I suspected, I’d say Doctor Armstrong.
    BLORE . Armstrong.
    VERA . Yes. Because, don’t you see, he’s had far and away the best chance to kill Mrs. Rogers. Terribly easy for him, as a doctor, to give her an overdose of sleeping stuff.
    BLORE . That’s true. But someone else gave her brandy, remember.
    ( EMILY goes up Left and sits. )
    WARGRAVE . Her husband had a good opportunity of administering a drug.
    BLORE . It isn’t Rogers. He wouldn’t have the brains to fix all this stunt—nor the money. Besides, you can see he’s scared stiff.
    ( ROGERS and LOMBARD , in mackintoshes, come up Right on balcony and appear at window. BLORE goes and lets them in. As he opens the window, a swirl of loud wind and rain comes in. EMILY half screams and turns round. )
    LOMBARD . My God, it’s something like a storm.
    EMILY . Oh, it’s only you—
    VERA . Who did you think it was? ( Pause ) Beatrice Taylor?
    EMILY . ( Angrily ) Eh?
    LOMBARD . Not a hope of rescue until this dies down. Is that coffee? Good. ( To VERA ) I’m taking to coffee now, you see.
    VERA . ( Takes him a cup ) Such restraint in the face of danger is nothing short of heroic.
    WARGRAVE . ( Crosses to down Left; sits ) I do not, of course, profess to be a weather prophet. But I should say that it is very unlikely that a boat could reach us, even if it knew of our plight, under twenty-four hours. Even if the wind drops, the sea has still to go down.
    ( LOMBARD sits Left sofa. ROGERS pulls off his shoes. )
    VERA . You’re awfully wet.
    BLORE . Is anyone a swimmer? Would it be possible to swim to the mainland?
    VERA . It’s over a mile—and in this sea you’d be dashed on the rocks and drowned.
    EMILY . ( Speaking like one in a trance ) Drowned—drowned—in the pond—( Drops knitting. )
    WARGRAVE . ( Rising; startled, moves up to her ) I beg your pardon, Miss Brent. ( He picks it up for her. )
    BLORE . After-dinner nap.
    ( Another furious gust of wind and rain. )
    VERA . It’s terribly cold in here. ( To Right; sits on fender. )
    ROGERS . I could light the fire if you like,