WALTER. How are you, father?
COKESON. [Looking down his nose at the papers in his hand as though deprecating their size] I'll just take Boulter's lease in to young Falder to draft the instructions. [He goes out into FALDER'S room.]
WALTER. About that right-of-way case?
JAMES. Oh, well, we must go forward there. I thought you told me yesterday the firm's balance was over four hundred.
WALTER. So it is.
JAMES. [Holding out the pass-book to his son] Three—five—one, no recent cheques. Just get me out the cheque-book.
WALTER goes to a cupboard, unlocks a drawer and produces a
cheque-book.
JAMES. Tick the pounds in the counterfoils. Five, fifty-four, seven, five, twenty-eight, twenty, ninety, eleven, fifty-two, seventy-one. Tally?
WALTER. [Nodding] Can't understand. Made sure it was over four hundred.
JAMES. Give me the cheque-book. [He takes the check-book and cons the counterfoils] What's this ninety?