[Horton withdraws.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
[Rising.] I’d quite forgotten your aunt. Do, please, look unconcerned, Claude. Let her see that men can display courage and decision at such moments.
[Humming an air, he unbuttons his coat and throws it back, sticking his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets. Some newspapers fall from the breast of his coat; he is hastily picking them up when Mrs. Cloys enters.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
[Meekly.] You are going, Harriet?
Mrs. Cloys.
Fletcher, you’ve been out to buy evening papers!
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
[Putting them into his tail pockets.] The malicious utterances of the judge are not in these editions.