Lawson. As God sees ye, laddie, are ye speaking truth?
Leslie. Well ... of course!
Lawson. The haill truth?
Leslie. All of it. Why not?
Lawson. Man, I’d a kind o’ gliff.
Leslie. Why, what were you afraid of? Had you a suspicion?
Lawson. Me? Me a suspicion? Ye’re daft, sir; and me the Crown offeecial!... Eh, man, I’m a’ shakin’ ... And sae ye thocht ye kennt him?
Leslie. I did that. And what’s more, I’ve sat every night in case of his return. I promise you, Procurator, he shall not slip me twice. Meanwhile, I’m worried and put out. You understand how such a fancy will upset a man. I’m uneasy with my friends and on bad terms with my own conscience. I keep watching, spying, comparing, putting two and two together, and hunting for resemblances until my head goes round. It’s like a puzzle in a dream. Only yesterday I thought I had him. And who d’you think it was?
Lawson. Wha? Wha was’t? Speak, Mr. Leslie, speak. I’m an auld man: dinna forget that.