Reached its twenty-fifth thousand, and the demand still continues! You and Mr. what's-his-name—Titterton—ought to be publicly exposed, Mackworth; and if we were in the least spiteful and vindictive——
Philip.
[Tightening his lips.] Are you sober, Filson?
Bertram.
Now, don't you be insolent, because it won't answer. [Philip winces, but restrains himself.] The question is, what are we to do to-night—for Ottoline's sake, I mean t'say. We must spare her as much shock and distress as possible. I assume you've sufficient decency left to agree with me there. My father and mother too—they're quite ignorant of the steps I've been taking——
Philip.
[Controlling himself with difficulty.] My good fellow, will you condescend to explain——?
Bertram.
[Walking away.] Oh, it's no use, Mackworth—this air of innocence! [Puffing himself out and strutting to and fro on the left.] It's simply wasted effort, I mean t'say. In five minutes I can have Dunning here with the whole disreputable story. He's close by—bottom of Chancery Lane. He'll be at his office till half-past-eleven——
Philip.