O'Dwyer rises and goes away.
O'Dwyer.
[Out of sight, violently.] A scrip like that's a scandal! If there's a livin' soul that can read bad handwriting, I am that man! But of all the——!
Tom.
Hush, hush! Mr. O'Dwyer!
O'Dwyer.
[Returning to his chair.] Here.
Tom.
[Taking the hook from the prompt-table and handing it to Imogen.] You are reading.