WINSOR. Gosh! I thought that chap [With a nod towards the balcony] was going to—! Look here, General, we must stop his tongue. Imagine it going the rounds. They may never find the real thief, you know. It's the very devil for Dancy.
CANYNGE. WINSOR! Dancy's sleeve was damp.
WINSOR. How d'you mean?
CANYNGE. Quite damp. It's been raining.
The two look at each other.
WINSOR. I—I don't follow— [His voice is hesitative and lower, showing that he does].
CANYNGE. It was coming down hard; a minute out in it would have been enough—[He motions with his chin towards the balcony].
WINSOR. [Hastily] He must have been out on his balcony since.
CANYNGE. It stopped before I came up, half an hour ago.
WINSOR. He's been leaning on the wet stone, then.