LEONARD. You ought to know. You appear to have your conspirators everywhere. Saunders—and, I suppose, Anne’s maid—and God knows who else.
LATIMER. Money, Leonard, money. A pity you refused that hundred thousand pounds. You could have bribed the Archbishop of Canterbury to curse me.... Well, a week here won’t do either of you any harm. Have a whisky and soda?
LEONARD. I am not at all sure that I ought to drink in your house.
LATIMER. You will be thirsty before you go.
LEONARD (hesitating). Well——
(A Footman appears with the whisky.)
LATIMER. That’s right. Help yourself, won’t you?
LEONARD (helping himself). Please understand that I do this, as I do everything else in your house, under protest.
LATIMER (shooting his cuff and taking out his pencil). Your protest is noted.
LEONARD (returning to the too comfortable chair). As I have already said, your conduct is perfectly outrageous. (He sinks into its depths.)