FRED (harassed). I don’t know what to do for the best. I’m out of pocket, and you worrying me – You’ll have me in my grave. Here! see these? Grey hairs. Grey hairs!

MADGE. – oh dear!

FRED. Grey hairs. I’m only thirty-nine. Thirty-nine; with more grey hairs than my father had when we buried him. He was eighty and not a grey hair.

MADGE. Perhaps it was dye.

FRED. Not a grey hair.

MADGE. Perhaps it was dye,

FRED. I’m going to pieces. This rushing about. Hurrying backwards and forwards. It’s driving me out of my mind. (Pause. In a panic.) Do you know, this morning I – I forgot where I was going. I didn’t know where I was going.

MADGE. You worry too much.

FRED. I worry over you and Janice and the house.

MADGE. Tossing and turning in your sleep. Worry, worry, worry.

Silence

FRED. I forgot where I was going.

MADGE. Where were you coming from; that’s more to the point?

FRED. I don’t know.

MADGE. You don’t know?

FRED. No.

MADGE. You don’t know where you were coming from either?

FRED. No.

MADGE. It’s very worrying.

Silence.