[Pointing to the steps.] And here?
Olive.
[Struggling to suppress her anger.] The library—the library.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
Have I permission?
Olive.
Oh, by all means.
[Sir Fletcher bustles up the steps and enters the library.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
[Out of sight.] Cheerful—very cheerful. A paucity of volumes, but the bishop would bring his own books.