WINSOR. Quite so, unless they find the real thief. People always
believe the worst.

COLFORD. [Glaring at BORRING] They do.

CANYNGE. There is no decent way out of a thing of this sort.

ST ERTH. No. [Rising] It leaves a bad taste. I'm sorry for young Mrs
Dancy--poor woman!

BORRING. Are you going to play any more?

ST ERTH. [Abruptly] No, sir. Good night to you. Canynge, can I give
you a lift?

He goes out, followed by CANYNGE. BORRING.

[After a slight pause] Well, I shall go and take the t-temperature of
the Club.

He goes out.

COLFORD. Damn that effeminate stammering chap! What can we do for
Dancy, WINSOR?

WINSOR. Colford! [A slight pause] The General felt his coat sleeve
that night, and it was wet.

COLFORD. Well! What proof's that? No, by George! An old