Counsellor. Well, well. [Unlocks a pocket-book; and, as he takes out the papers, slips a small packet into his pocket]. Here—there—and there—that is all—now look at them.
Lewis [looking at the papers]. Yes, yes, all trifles, it is true—poetical dreams—philosophical nonsense—you may take them.
Counsellor. Your behaviour, I must say, offends me much, and I beg to be spared in future——
Lewis. Why, every body would call me a villain, if I proceeded to act against my own brother without full conviction—therefore [with great earnestness] give me that other packet.
Counsellor [thunderstruck]. What—which—what packet?
Lewis. That which you took from the rest, and put into your pocket.
Counsellor. But—why?
Lewis. Out with it!
Counsellor. I will——
Lewis. Out with it, I say. [Counsellor gives the packet; and, while Lewis is reading it, endeavours to put on an air of indifference.]