THIS play is an exploration of privilege, delusion, secrets, lies and as always with this kind of clockwork play where the narrative clicks past with the reassurance of a mantel clock, butler, tick, errant daughter, tock, mysterious stranger tick, judge for lunch, tock, gardens as metaphor tick, Freudian gibberish, tock, class and privilege, you get the idea. Written by high society eccentric and Rottingdean resident Enid Bagnold the play reflects her attitudes and much as her attitude towards drama. The play and calibre of actor are marred by an unpleasant and borderline racialist line which should be excised, it was interesting where the audience chose not to laugh last night.