The DANCYS' sitting-room, a few minutes later. MABEL DANCY is sitting alone on the sofa with a newspaper on her lap; she is only just up, and has a bottle of smelling-salts in her hand. Two or three other newspapers are dumped on the arm of the sofa. She topples the one off her lap and takes up another as if she couldn't keep away from them; drops it in turn, and sits staring before her, sniffing at the salts. The door, Right, is opened and DANCY comes in.
MABEL. [Utterly surprised] Ronny! Do they want me in Court?
DANCY. No.
MABEL. What is it, then? Why are you back?
DANCY. Spun.
MABEL. [Blank] Spun? What do you mean? What's spun?
DANCY. The case. They've found out through those notes.
MABEL. Oh! [Staring at his face] Who?
DANCY. Me!
MABEL. [After a moment of horrified stillness] Don't, Ronny! Oh! No! Don't! [She buries her face in the pillows of the sofa].