KEITH. And the archway?

LARRY. Corner of Glove Lane.

KEITH. Good God! Why, I saw it in the paper this morning. They
were talking of it in the Courts! [He snatches the evening paper
from his armchair, and runs it over anal reads] Here it is again.
"Body of a man was found this morning under an archway in Glove Lane.
From marks about the throat grave suspicion of foul play are
entertained. The body had apparently been robbed." My God!
[Suddenly he turns] You saw this in the paper and dreamed it.
D'you understand, Larry?--you dreamed it.

LARRY. [Wistfully] If only I had, Keith!

[KEITH makes a movement of his hands almost like his brother's.]

KEITH. Did you take anything from the-body?

LARRY. [Drawing au envelope from his pocket] This dropped out while
we were struggling.

KEITH. [Snatching it and reading] "Patrick Walenn"--Was that his
name? "Simon's Hotel, Farrier Street, London." [Stooping, he puts it
in the fire] No!--that makes me----[He bends to pluck it out, stays
his hand, and stamps it suddenly further in with his foot] What in
God's name made you come here and tell me? Don't you know I'm--I'm
within an ace of a Judgeship?

LARRY. [Simply] Yes. You must know what I ought to do. I didn't,