He goes.
WINSOR. Look here, Mr Twisden—
TWISDEN. Sit down; sit down, my dear.
And he himself sits behind the table, as a cup of tea is brought in to him by the YOUNG CLERK, with two Marie biscuits in the saucer.
Will you have some, Margaret?
MARGARET. No, dear Mr Jacob.
TWISDEN. Charles?
WINSOR. No, thanks. The door is closed.
TWISDEN. [Dipping a biscuit in the tea] Now, then?
WINSOR. The General knows something which on the face of it looks rather queer. Now that he's going to be called, oughtn't Dancy to be told of it, so that he may be ready with his explanation, in case it comes out?