GRAVITER. [Telephoning] Can Sir Frederic spare Mr Twisden a few minutes now if he comes round? [Receiving reply] He's gone down to Brighton for the night.
TWISDEN. H'm! What hotel?
GRAVITER. [Telephoning] What's his address? What . . . ? [To
TWISDEN] The Bedford.
TWISDEN. I'll go down.
GRAVITER. [Telephoning] Thank you. All right. [He rings off].
TWISDEN. Just look out the trains down and up early to-morrow.
GRAVITER takes up an A B C, and TWISDEN takes up the Ricardos card.
TWISDEN. Send to this address in Putney, verify the fact that Ricardos has a daughter, and give me a trunk call to Brighton. Better go yourself, Graviter. If you see her, don't say anything, of course— invent some excuse. [GRAVITER nods] I'll be up in time to see Dancy.
GRAVITER. By George! I feel bad about this.
TWISDEN. Yes. But professional honour comes first. What time is that train? [He bends over the ABC].