I was giving you two minutes by my watch. How are you,
Cantelupe?
CANTELUPE, _with a gesture which might be mistaken for a bow, folds
himself up._
TREBELL. Shall I bring you the figures on Friday ... that might save time.
CANTELUPE, _by taking a deeper fold in himself seems to assent._
TREBELL. Will the afternoon do? Kent shall fix the hour.
CANTELUPE. [_With an effort._] Kent?
TREBELL. My secretary.
CANTELUPE. Friday. Any hour before five. I know my way.
_The three phrases having meant three separate efforts,_ CANTELUPE
_escapes._ WEDGECROFT _has walked to the table, his brows a little
puckered. Now_ TREBELL _notices that_ KENT'S _door is open; he goes
quickly into the room and finds it empty. Then he stands for a moment
irritable and undecided before returning._
TREBELL. Been here long?
WEDGECROFT. Five minutes ... more, I suppose.
TREBELL. Mrs. O'Connell gone?
WEDGECROFT. To her dressmaker's.
TREBELL. Frances forgot she was coming and went out.
WEDGECROFT. Pretty little fool of a woman! D'you know her husband?
TREBELL. No.
WEDGECROFT. Says she's been in Ireland with him since we met at Shapters. He
has trouble with his tenantry.
TREBELL. Won't he sell or won't they purchase?
WEDGECROFT. Curious chap. A Don at Balliol when I first knew him. Warped of
late years ..
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