SCENE VI
To these, C., Brodie and Lawson (greatcoat, muffler, lantern)
Lawson (from the door). Come your ways, Mistress Watt.
Jean. That’s the Fiscal himsel’.
Hunt. Mr. Procurator-Fiscal, I believe?
Lawson. That’s me. Who’ll you be?
Hunt. Hunt the Runner, sir; Hunt from Bow Street; English warrant.
Lawson. There’s a place for a’ things, officer. Come your ways to my office with me and this guid wife.
Brodie (aside to Jean, as she passes with a curtsey). How dare you be here? (Aloud to Smith.) Wait you here, my man.
Smith. If you please, sir. (Brodie goes out, C.)