II
MR. WELLING; MR. CAMPBELL
Campbell: "Why, Welling, what the devil are you doing there?"
Welling: "Trying to get away."
Campbell: "To get away? But you sha'n't, man! I won't let you. I was just going to see you. How long have you been there?"
Welling: "I've just come."
Campbell: "What have you heard?"
Welling: "Nothing—nothing. I was knocking on the window-casing to make you hear, but you seemed preoccupied."
Campbell: "Preoccupied! convulsed! cataclysmed! Look here: we're in a box, Welling. And you've got us into it." He pulls Welling's note out of his pocket, where he has been keeping his hand on it, and pokes it at him. "Is that yours?"
Welling, examining it with bewilderment mounting into anger: "It's mine; yes. May I ask, Mr. Campbell, how you came to have this letter?"
Campbell: "May I ask, Mr. Welling, how you came to write such a letter to my wife?"