Krakau. Your throat—
Helms. My throat is all right. Go on and smoke.
Krakau [comfortably lights his pipe, relaxes]. Well, now we'll see how good you are at working out problems.
Helms. I don't think I can do it.
Krakau [reading]. Sure you can.
Helms. Look here. Would you check with the bishop?
Krakau [studies the board]. No ... that loses you the queen.... Hum ... you've sort of mixed it up.... Back with that rook.
Helms. How's that?
Krakau. Brilliant!
Helms. Knut is back at school by this time.