Mrs. O’Farrel.
Upon my word! What on earth had the girl done?
Baldwin.
Mrs. Baldwin found ’er sittin ’on Constable ’Iggins’ knee—’e was a married man, as you may remember, sir, and ’e——
(Mrs. O’Farrel bursts out laughing.)
Dean.
(Hastily.) Yes, yes, yes, Baldwin.... Neither of these notes requires an answer, thank you. Good morning.
Baldwin.
Mornin’, sir. Mornin’, ma’am.
(He goes out slowly, inadvertently leaving his books on the ground. Mrs. O’Farrel is still amused.)