Wait a moment. Let me think.
[Still apparently absorbed in his paper.]
Ah, yes. You go back, Bill. We must attract another guest. Now are you ready?
Bill:
Yes.
The Toff:
All right. You shall now see my demise at my Yorkshire residence. You must receive guests for me.
[He leaps up in full view of the window, flings up both arms and
falls on to the floor near the dead Priest.]
Now be ready.
[His eyes close.]