(Farther up.) Not a soul here, to adore this surpassing tomb of Lady Richmond. There's art for you! But no effigy of yours visible. Your infallibility waneth. Animus vester ego, Argilla mea! the which is choice Schoolboy for—Mind your eye, O Clay.
CLAY
Of course there's none now.
WETHERELL
Avaunt, then, deceiving monster!
CLAY
But it used to stand, with Anne, William and Mary, and with Monk behind it, there on the site of the old altar-stone; his name is cut over the vault. That is where Dr. Johnson visited it often.
WETHERELL
I had forgotten. What were you saying about stepping over the slab?
CLAY