TWISDEN. Better not.
WINSOR. If they get that out of him, and recall me, am I to say he told me of it at the time?
TWISDEN. You didn't feel the coat yourself? And Dancy wasn't present? Then what Canynge told you is not evidence—he'll stop your being asked.
WINSOR. Thank goodness. Good-bye!
WINSOR goes out. TWISDEN, behind his table, motionless, taps his teeth with the eyeglasses in his narrow, well-kept hand. After a long shake of his head and a shrug of his rather high shoulders he snips, goes to the window and opens it. Then crossing to the door, Left Back, he throws it open and says
TWISDEN. At your service, sir.
GILMAN comes forth, nursing his pot hat.
Be seated.
TWISDEN closes the window behind him, and takes his seat.
GILMAN. [Taking the client's chair, to the left of the table] Mr Twisden, I believe? My name's Gilman, head of Gilman's Department Stores. You have my card.