Morse.
[Hesitatingly.] May I speak to you, Sir? [In an undertone.] Mrs. Jarman, sir.
Aubrey.
[Softly to Morse.] Mrs. Jarman! Do you mean she is at the lodge in her carriage?
Morse.
No, sir—here. [Aubrey looks towards Drummle, perplexed.] There's a nice fire in your—in that room, sir. [Glancing in the direction of the door leading to the bedroom.]
Aubrey.
[Between his teeth, angrily.] Very well.
[Morse retires.
Drummle.