(Bessie Carvil appears at cottage door with a white wrap on her head and stands in her garden trying to see).
Bessie. What's the matter?
Capt. H. (Beside himself). An information fellow. (Stumbles.)
Harry (Putting out arm to steady him, gravely). Here! Steady a bit! Seems to me somebody's been trying to get at you. (Change of tone.) Hullo! What's this rig you've got on?... Storm canvas coat, by George! (He gives a frig, throaty laugh.) Well! You are a character!
Capt. H. (Daunted by the allusion, looks at coat). I—I wear it for—for the time being. Till—till—to-morrow. (Shrinks away, spade in hand, to door of his cottage.)
Bessie (Advancing). And what may you want, sir?
Harry (Turns to Bessie at once; easy manner). I'd like to know about this swindle that's going to be sprung on him. I didn't mean to startle the old man. You see, on my way here I dropped into a barber's to get a twopenny shave, and they told me there that he was something of a character. He has been a character all his life.
Bessie (Wondering). What swindle?
Capt. H. A grinning fellow! (Makes sudden dash indoors with the spade. Door slams. Affected gurgling laugh within.)