SHORT. (giving up the search, and coming forward) What have you found? anything fresh?
SWEET. (showing him the letter) Look—read—judge for yourself?
SHORT. (trying in vain to read the letter) No, it’s no use—confound it, I can’t make out a word.
SWEET. A signal! a signal, Short! think of that! They are actually carry on a secret correspondence, by means of signals.
SHORT. What signals? Why the devil don’t you read the letter?
SWEET. She shall go to-night, she shall go, but I’ll watch her like a lynx.
SHORT. Now be prudent; let me intreat of you to do nothing rashly.
SWEET. (vehemently, putting back the letter into the book) I’ll give it her with my own hand, and she how she takes it!
SHORT. (restraining him) No, no, no; let me beg of you. In your present state of excitement it would be madness; let me give it to her, I shall be able to see more than you will, I am cooler—more collected.
SWEET. Do you think so? Well, perhaps you are right. (gives SHORT the book)