Doctor (looking at door). The strange thing is ... the bolt.
Servant. It’s unco strange.
Doctor. Well, we have acted for the best.
Servant. Sir, I dinna think this should gang nae further.
Doctor. The secret is in our keeping. Affliction is enough without scandal.
Mary. Kind heaven, what does it mean?
Doctor. I think there is no more to be done.
Mary. I am here alone, Doctor; you pass my uncle’s door?
Doctor. The Procurator-Fiscal? I shall make it my devoir. Expect him soon. (Goes out with Maid.)