Dumont. That’s strange. I can’t find the key. It’s a patent key.
Bertrand (behind Dumont, making signs to Macaire). The key, he can’t find the key.
Macaire. O yes, I remember. I heard it drop. (Drops key.) And here it is before my eyes.
Dumont. That? That’s yours. I saw it drop.
Macaire. I give you my word of honour I heard it fall five minutes back.
Dumont. But I saw it.
Macaire. Impossible. It must be yours.
Dumont. It is like mine, indeed. How came it in your pocket?
Macaire. Bitten. (Aside.)
Bertrand. Sold again (aside) . . . You forget, Baron, it’s the key of my valise; I gave it you to keep in consequence of the hole in my pocket.