JUDGE. [Looking at his watch.] Past nine! We shall plunge into the play—like body-snatchers, looking for the corpse of the plot—and we shall never know what it was that the heroine did.
MRS. WESTERN. [Ignoring him, to MARTIN.] Smithers I'll answer for.
MARTIN. Oh yes, madam. If I might make a suggestion—
MRS. WESTERN. Well?
MARTIN. It couldn't have fallen anywhere into your dress, madam?
MRS. WESTERN. Nonsense, how could it? [She gets up and shakes herself.]
Absurd. [She sits again.
MARTIN. Into your cloak?
MRS. WESTERN. Silk! No. That'll do, Martin. You might help the others outside. [MARTIN goes.
JUDGE. [With a step forward.] Now, admirable sister—
MRS. WESTERN. Didn't it strike you that Martin's manner was rather strange?