A note is handed to him through the half opened door; and obviously it is at Edmunds whom he frowns. Then he returns fidgetting for his glasses.
Oh, it turns out ... I'm so sorry you were blundered in here, Trebell ... this man ... what's his name ... Edwards ... had been reading the papers and thought it was a cabinet council ... seemed proud of himself. This is from Wedgecroft ... scribbled in a messenger office. I never can read his writing ... it's like prescriptions. Can you?
It has gradually dawned on the three men and then on Trebell what this note may have in it. Farrant hand even trembles a little as he takes it. He gathers the meaning himself and looks at the others with a smile before he reads the few words aloud.
Farrant. "All right. He has promised."
Blackborough. O'Connell?
Farrant. Thank God. [He turns enthusiastically to Trebell who stands rigid.] My dear fellow ... I hope you know how glad I am.
Cantelupe. I am very glad.
Blackborough. Of course we're all very glad indeed, Trebell ... very glad we persuaded him.
Farrant. That's dead and buried now, isn't it?
Trebell moves away from them all and leaves them wondering. When he turns round his face is as hard as ever; his voice, if possible, harder.