I'd set the class a problem with A, B and C as the three dimensions. IAN: Something like that happened a couple of weeks ago. These simple experiments are child's play to her.īARBARA: You know, it's almost got to the stage where I deliberately want to trip her up. SUSAN: Yes, it's a bit obvious, isn't it? Well, I'm not being rude, but couldn't we deal with two active chemicalsĪnd get on with something else? I'm sorry, it was just an idea. IAN: But that's the whole point of the experiment, Susan. SUSAN: Yes, I can see red turns to blue, Mister Chesterton, but that's because we're dealing with two inactive chemicals. Nothing about this girl makes sense.įor instance, the other day I was giving a talk about chemical changes, I'd given out the litmus paper to showīARBARA: And she knew the answer before you'd started. IAN: I suppose she couldn't be a foreigner? No, doesn't make sense. SUSAN: Yes, of course, the decimal system hasn't started yet. She said she thought we were on the decimal system.īARBARA: Don't be silly, Susan. IAN: Yes, well, I expect there's a very simple explanation to all this.īARBARA: Well, I don't know how you explain the fact that a fifteen year old girl does not know how many shillings there areīARBARA: Really. If I thought I was just being a busybody, I'd go straight home. The truth is we're both curious about Susan and we won't be happyīARBARA: You can't just pass it off like that. Susan takes a piece of paper, drops paint onto it, folds it in half then draws a hexagon around it before starting up, guilty)īARBARA: Over there, where the policeman is.īARBARA: She can't have got here yet. And be careful, the fog's getting thicker. IAN: Then we won't deprive you of that romantic pleasure.īARBARA: Well, hurry home, Susan. I rather like walking in the English fog. IAN: Oh, where do you live, Susan? I'm giving Miss Wright a lift home, I've got room for one more. I'll return it tomorrow.īARBARA: Oh, that's not necessary till you've finished it. SUSAN: Is that the book you're lending me, Miss Wright? I wouldn't expect you to know a thing like that. SUSAN: You are surprising, Mister Chesterton. He started his career as Chris Waites and IAN: John Smith is the stage name for the Honourable Aubrey Waites. They've gone from nineteen to two in the hit parade. SUSAN: It's John Smith and the Common Men. She looks a little elfin, like Audrey Hepburn) (Susan is listening to music on her transistor radio. What do we do? Ask her point-blank?īARBARA: No, I thought we could drive there, wait till she arrives and see where she goes.īARBARA: That is, if you're not doing anything. IAN: What's she going to do, rewrite it? Oh, all right. I'm lending her a book on the French Revolution. IAN: Well, we'll have to find out for ourselves, won't we?īARBARA: Thank you for the we. There's a big wall on one side, houses on the other and nothing in the middle except this junkyard. It's just an old junkyard.īARBARA: Well, that was the address the secretary gave me.īARBARA: No. I got the address from the secretary, 76 Totter's Lane, and I went along there one evening.īARBARA: There isn't anything there. IAN: Did you indeed? And what's the old boy like?īARBARA: Well, that's just it.
IAN: He's a doctor, isn't he? That's a bit of a lame excuse.īARBARA: Well, I didn't take too much notice but then recently her homework's been so bad.īARBARA: Well, finally I got so irritated with all her excuses I decided to see this grandfather of hers and Impossible as her grandfather didn't like strangers. Seemed quite interested until I said I'd be willing to work with her at her home. I had a talk with her and told her she ought to specialise.
IAN: And that's your problem, eh? Whether to hand over the class to herīARBARA: Ian, I must talk to someone about this, but I don't want to get the girl into trouble.Īnd I know you're going to tell me I'm imagining things.īARBARA: Well, I told you how good she is at history. Is that what she's been doing with history? She knows more science than I'll ever know. She lets her knowledge out a bit at a time so as not to embarrass me. IAN: Susan Foreman? She your problem too? I don't know what to make of it.īARBARA: Oh, it's one of the girls, Susan Foreman. I'll forgive you this time.īARBARA: Oh, I had a terrible day. Inside is an assortment of items, including a Police telephone box.)īARBARA: Wait in here please, Susan. (A foggy night, and a policeman is patrolling his beat past I M Foreman's Scrap Merchants at 76 Totter's Lane.
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