There isn't a sign.
WINSOR. All right. Get Robert up, but don't say anything to him. By
the way, we're expecting the police.
TREISURE. I trust they will not find a mare's nest, sir, if I may say
so.
He goes.
WINSOR. De Levis has got wrong with Treisure. [Suddenly] But, I say,
what would any of us have done if we'd been in his shoes?
MARGARET. A thousand pounds? I can't even conceive having it.
DANCY. We probably shouldn't have found it out.
LADY A. No--but if we had.
DANCY. Come to you--as he did.
WINSOR. Yes; but there's a way of doing things.
CANYNGE. We shouldn't have wanted the police.
MARGARET. No. That's it. The hotel touch.
LADY A. Poor young man; I think we're rather hard on him.
WINSOR. He sold that weed you gave him, Dancy, to Kentman, the bookie,
and these were the proceeds.
DANCY. Oh!
WINSOR. He'd tried her high, he said.
DANCY. [Grimly] He would.
MABEL. Oh! Ronny, what bad luck!
WINSOR. He must have been followed here. [At the window] After rain
like that, there ought to be footmarks.
The splutter of a motor cycle is heard.
MARGARET. Here's the wind!
WINSOR. What's the move now, General?
CANYNGE.
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