Fred. You’re right, doctor: it is hard to understand, especially as Harry and I were such good friends. We used our writing materials in common. Of course, he wrote the check on that portfolio; that’s plain.
Lucy. Mr. Hastings, I remember the words with which you presented that portfolio to Dilly, “Should I ever become a great man, you can boast you possess something which no one but I have ever used.”
Dilly. His very words.
Fred. You, too, turn against me, Lucy?
Lucy. To clear a dear brother’s name, against you and all the world.
Bob. (Aside.) Ah, ha! I shall have her yet: it’s just my luck.
Fred. My friends, I pity your delusion. It is natural we should stand by those we love; but this is a clear case. Harry Harlem is now an outcast skulking from justice, while I—Who dare accuse me of any crime? (Enter Harry, C., disguised.)
Harry. Be that task mine.
Dilly. That old man again!