[She is about to take out her purse, but on a look from HOLDER, she arrests her hand.
Hol. (to FLETCHER aside.) You see? She would not insult me by offering me money.
Fle. Will you finish copying the last leaf?
Hol. Ah! yes, directly—conclude it’s done.
Fle. There is some mystery about you——
Con. (R., taking of her bonnet and shawl.) Will you be kind enough to assist me, Mr. Fletcher. What an ungallant man you are.
Fle. I beg your pardon.
Con. As I came here, I met Fitzcharles in her brougham with her father.
Fle. Was the father on the box?
Con. No, inside.