[To Sir Randle and Roope.] Yes, gentlemen, the books are in a mouldy cellar, also rented by Messrs. Hopwood, at 6, Carmichael Lane. There's thousands of them there, in cases—some of the cases with shipping marks on them, some marked for inland delivery. I've inspected them this afternoon—overhauled them. Mr. Sweasy had gone over to the Borough to see his married niece, and I managed to get the right side of Mrs. S.
Sir Randle.
[Softly, looking from one to the other.] Curious! Curious!
Lady Filson.
[Forcing a smile.] How—how strange!
Roope.
[To Lady Filson, a little disturbed.] Why strange, dear Lady Filson? Shipping and other marks on the cases! These people are forwarding agents——
Dunning.
[Showing his teeth.] Nobody makes the least effort to despatch the cases, though. That's singular, isn't it?
Roope.