[Bringing forward the chair on which he has been sitting and planting it nearer to Sir Randle and Lady Filson—to Dunning.] I suppose you may——
Dunning.
[Taking off his gloves and overcoat—to Philip.] D'ye mind if I slip my coat off, Mr. Mackworth?
Philip.
[Growling.] No.
Dunning.
Don't want to get overheated, and catch the flue. I've got Mrs. D. in bed with a bad cold, as it is.
Bertram.
[To Dunning.] Now then, Mr. Dunning! I'll trouble you to give us an account of your operations in this business from the outset——
Dunning.