ST ERTH. No. [Rising] It leaves a bad taste. I'm sorry for young Mrs
Dancy—poor woman!
BORRING. Are you going to play any more?
ST ERTH. [Abruptly] No, sir. Good night to you. Canynge, can I give you a lift?
He goes out, followed by CANYNGE. BORRING.
[After a slight pause] Well, I shall go and take the t-temperature of the Club.
He goes out.
COLFORD. Damn that effeminate stammering chap! What can we do for
Dancy, WINSOR?
WINSOR. Colford! [A slight pause] The General felt his coat sleeve that night, and it was wet.
COLFORD. Well! What proof's that? No, by George! An old school-fellow, a brother officer, and a pal.
WINSOR. If he did do it—