Kent. Just come?
Lucy. Just going.
Kent. I'll see you at dinner.
Lucy. Oh, are you to be here? ... that's nice.
Lucy departs as purposefully as she came. Kent hurries to Trebell, whose thoughts are away again by now.
Kent. I haven't been long there and back, have I? The Bishop gave me these letters for you. He hasn't answered the last ... but I've his notes of what he means to say. He'd like them back to-night. He was just going out. I've one or two notes of what Evans said. Bit of a charlatan, don't you think?
Trebell. Evans?
Kent. Well, he talked of his Flock. There are quite fifteen letters you'll have to deal with yourself, I'm afraid.
Trebell stares at him: then, apparently, making up his mind....
Trebell. Ring up a messenger, will you ... I must write a note and send it.