Not that slab. I meant the other, where Mrs. Wetherell is standing. The tragic names are all together there: Mary Queen of Scots, Rupert, and the lovely and dear Queen of Bohemia, and young Henry of Gloucester, and poor Arabella Stuart, and—
MRS. WETHERELL
(Slowly reading)—ten infant children of King James the Second, and eighteen infant children of Queen—
WETHERELL
Tee-hee!
MRS. WETHERELL
Percy!
CLAY
Sure enough, it does sound ticklish! But hush, Wetherell: people will hear. (They descend.) That verger in the dim amber light, standing in the dear little doorway of S. John's, will let us see the cases in the chantry. You have to show the Dean's pass. Wait a moment: I must get mine. (He draws a card from his pocket and approaches the verger, who immediately leads the way to the stair of the Islip Chapel.)
MRS. WETHERELL