Wedgecroft. How are you?
Frances. I'm very well, thanks.
Wedgecroft. [To Trebell, as they shake hands.] You're looking fit.
Trebell. [With tremendous emphasis.] I am!
Wedgecroft. You've got the motor eye though.
Trebell. Full of dust?
Wedgecroft. Look at Kent's. [He takes Walter's arm.] It's a slight but serious contraction of the pupil ... which I charge fifty guineas to cure.
Frances. It's the eye of faith in you and your homeopathic doses. Don't you interfere with it.
Frances Trebell, housekeeper, goes out. Kent has seized on the letters and is carrying them to his room.
Kent. This looks like popularity and the great heart of the people, doesn't it?