The London bachelor flat of Robert Waller, a Canadian university lecturer. The place is tastefully, if Spartanly, furnished. A large studio window overlooks the Thames from where we occasionally hear tugs and gulls. The sun floods the room with dazzling light.

We can see part of the kitchen; a hallway, which leads off the main room, leads to two unseen bedrooms. The place is sane and pleasant, with bookshelves, recordings, a hi-fi set, TV set, and radio. Picasso reproductions and Chinese paintings are on the wall, here and there a small Chinese sculpture.

At rise, Robert is busy packing, answering...

Sarah is alone painting. She now wears an auburn wig. She stops and goes to try the front door. We hear her banging at it. She returns.

SARAH Bloody idiot. Locking me in.

(She resumes her painting. Then she takes a look at what she's done and spits at it. She looks at the saliva running down the painting and is suddenly pleased with the effect so she starts spitting more, using the brush to mix in the saliva)

Action painters. Feet painters. Spit painters.

(The telephone rings. She stares at it but doesn't go to answer it)

Hello. He's...