GRAVITER. Did we shake Kentman or Goole?
WINSOR. Very little. Oh! by the way, the numbers of those two notes were given, and I see they're published in the evening papers. I suppose the police wanted that. I tell you what I find, Graviter—a general feeling that there's something behind it all that doesn't come out.
GRAVITER. The public wants it's money's worth—always does in these Society cases; they brew so long beforehand, you see.
WINSOR. They're looking for something lurid.
MARGARET. When I was in the bog, I thought they were looking for me. [Taking out her cigarette case] I suppose I mustn't smoke, Mr Graviter?
GRAVITER. Do!
MARGARET. Won't Mr Jacob have a fit?
GRAVITER. Yes, but not till you've gone.
MARGARET. Just a whiff. [She lights a cigarette].
WINSOR. [Suddenly] It's becoming a sort of Dreyfus case—people taking sides quite outside the evidence.