WINSOR. How d'you mean?
CANYNGE. Quite damp. It's been raining.
The two look at each other.
WINSOR. I—I don't follow— [His voice is hesitative and lower, showing that he does].
CANYNGE. It was coming down hard; a minute out in it would have been enough—[He motions with his chin towards the balcony].
WINSOR. [Hastily] He must have been out on his balcony since.
CANYNGE. It stopped before I came up, half an hour ago.
WINSOR. He's been leaning on the wet stone, then.
CANYNGE. With the outside of the upper part of the arm?
WINSOR. Against the wall, perhaps. There may be a dozen explanations. [Very low and with great concentration] I entirely and absolutely refuse to believe anything of the sort against Ronald Dancy in my house. Dash it, General, we must do as we'd be done by. It hits us all—it hits us all. The thing's intolerable.