MARGARET. I daresay. [She mechanically takes out her cigarette-case,
catches the lift of TWISDEN'S eyebrows, and puts it back].
WINSOR. Well, we'll go together. I don't want Mrs Dancy to hear.
MARGARET. Do tell me, Mr Jacob; is he going to win?
TWISDEN. I think so, Margaret; I think so.
MARGARET. It'll be too--frightful if he doesn't get a verdict, after all
this. But I don't know what we shall do when it's over. I've been
sitting in that Court all these three days, watching, and it's made me
feel there's nothing we like better than seeing people skinned. Well,
bye-bye, bless you!
TWISDEN rises and pats her hand.
WINSOR. Half a second, Margaret. Wait for me. She nods and goes out.
Mr Twisden, what do you really think?
TWISDEN. I am Dancy's lawyer, my dear Charles, as well as yours.
WINSOR. Well, can I go and see Canynge?
TWISDEN. Better not.
WINSOR. If they get that out of him, and recall me, am I to say he told
me of it at the time?
TWISDEN. You didn't feel the coat yourself? And Dancy wasn't present?
Then what Canynge told you is not evidence--he'll stop your being asked.
WINSOR. Thank goodness. Good-bye!
WINSOR goes out.
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