at Guil—embarrassed laugh.) Getting a bit of a bore, isn’t it?
GUIL (coldly) A bore?
ROS Well . . .
GUIL What about the suspense?
ROS (innocently) What suspense?
Small pause.
GUIL It must be the law of diminishing returns. . . . I feel the spell about to be broken. (Energizing himself somewhat. He takes out a coin, spins it high, catches it, turns it over on to the back of his other hand, studies the coin—and tosses it to Ros. His energy deflates and he sits.)
Well, it was an even chance . . . if my calculations are correct.
ROS Eighty-five in a row—beaten the record!
GUIL Don’t be absurd.
ROS Easily!
GUIL (angry) Is that it, then? Is that all?
ROS What?
GUIL A new record? Is that as far as you are prepared to go?
ROS Well . . .
GUIL No questions? Not even a pause?
ROS You spun them yourself.
GUIL Not a flicker of doubt?
ROS (aggrieved, aggressive) Well, I won—didn’t I?
GUIL (approaches him—quieter) And if you’d lost? If they’d come down against you, eighty-five times, one after another, just like that?
ROS (dumbly) Eighty-five in a row? Tails?
GUIL Yes! What would you think?
ROS (doubtfully) Well. . . . (Jocularly.) Well, I’d have a good look at your coins for a start!
GUIL (retiring) I’m relieved. At least we can still count on self-interest as a predictable factor. . . . I suppose it’s the last to go. Your capacity for trust made me wonder if perhaps . . . you, alone . . . (He turns on him suddenly, reaches out a hand.) Touch.
Ros clasps his hand. Guil pulls him up to him.
GUIL (more intensely) We have been spinning coins together since—(He releases him almost as violently.) This is not the first time we have spun coins!
ROS Oh no—we’ve been spinning coins for as long as I remember.
GUIL How long is that?
ROS I forget. Mind you—eighty-five times!
GUIL Yes?
ROS It’ll take some beating, I imagine.
GUIL Is that what you imagine? Is that it? No fear?
ROS Fear?
GUIL (in fury—flings a coin on the ground) Fear! The crack that might flood your brain with light!
ROS Heads. . . . (He puts it in his bag.)
Guil sits despondently. He takes a coin, spins it, lets it fall between his feet. He looks at it, picks it up, throws it to Ros, who puts it in his bag.
Guil takes another coin, spins it, catches it, turns it over on to his other hand, looks at it, and throws it to Ros, who puts it in his bag.
Guil takes a third coin, spins it, catches it in his right hand, turns it over onto his left wrist, lobs it in the air, catches it with his left hand, raises his left leg, throws the coin up under it, catches it and turns it over on the top of his head, where it sits. Ros comes, looks at it, puts it in his bag.
ROS I’m afraid—
GUIL So am I.
ROS I’m afraid it isn’t your day.
GUIL I’m afraid it is.
Small pause.
ROS Eighty-nine.
GUIL It must be indicative of something, besides the redistribution of wealth. (He muses.) List of possible explanations. One: I’m willing it. Inside where nothing shows, I am the essence of a man spinning double-headed coins, and betting against himself in private atonement for an unremembered past. (He spins a coin at Ros.)
ROS Heads.
GUIL Two: time has stopped dead, and the single experience of one coin being spun once has been repeated ninety times. . . . (He flips a coin, looks at it, tosses it to Ros.) On the whole, doubtful. Three: divine intervention, that is to say, a good turn from above concerning him, cf. children of Israel, or retribution from above concerning me, cf. Lot’s wife. Four: a spectacular vindication of the principle that each individual coin spun individually (he spins one) is as likely to come down heads as tails and therefore should cause no surprise each individual time it does. (It does. He tosses it to Ros.)
ROS I’ve never known anything like it!
GUIL And a syllogism: One, he has never known anything like it. Two, he has never known anything to write home about. Three, it is nothing to write home about. . . . Home . . . What’s the first thing you remember?
ROS Oh, let’s see . . . The first thing that comes into my head, you mean?
GUIL No—the first thing you remember.
ROS Ah. (Pause.) No, it’s no good, it’s gone. It was a long time ago.
GUIL (patient but edged) You don’t get my meaning. What is the first thing after all the things you’ve forgotten?
ROS Oh I see. (Pause.) I’ve forgotten the question.
Guil leaps up and paces.
GUIL Are you happy?
ROS What?
GUIL Content? At ease?
ROS I suppose so.
GUIL What are you going to do now?
ROS I don’t know. What do you want to do?
GUIL I have no desires. None. (He stops pacing dead.) There was a messenger . . . that’s right. We were sent for. (He wheels at Ros and raps out:) Syllogism the second: One, probability is a factor which operates within natural forces. Two, probability is not operating as a factor. Three, we are now within un-, sub- or supernatural forces. Discuss. (Ros is suitably startled. Acidly.) Not too heatedly.
ROS I’m sorry I—What’s the matter with you?
GUIL The scientific approach to the examination of phenomena is a defence against the pure emotion of fear. Keep tight hold and continue while there’s time. Now—counter to the previous syllogism: tricky one, follow me carefully, it may prove a comfort. If we postulate, and we just have, that within un-, sub- or supernatural forces the probability is that the law of probability will not operate as a factor, then we must accept
