...
WEDGECROFT. I wish I could have let Percival out of bed, but these first
touches of autumn are dangerous to a convalescent of his age.
HORSHAM. But you saw him, Farrant ... and he gave you his opinion, didn't
he?
FARRANT. Last night ... yes.
HORSHAM. I suppose it's a pity Blackborough hasn't turned up.
FARRANT. Never mind him.
HORSHAM. He gets people to agree with him. That's a gift.
FARRANT. Wedgecroft, what is the utmost O'Connell will be called upon to do
for us ... for Trebell?
WEDGECROFT. Probably only to hold his tongue at the inquest to-morrow. As
far as I know there's no one but her maid to prove that Mrs. O'Connell
didn't meet her husband some time in the summer. He'll be called upon to
tell a lie or two by implication.
FARRANT. Cantelupe ... what does perjury to that extent mean to a Roman
Catholic?
CANTELUPE'S _face melts into an expression of mild amazement._
CANTELUPE. Your asking such a question shows that you would not understand
my answer to it.
FARRANT. [_Leaving the fellow to his subtleties._] Well, what about the
maid?
WEDGECROFT. She may suspect facts but not names, I think. Why should they
question her on such a point if O'Connell says nothing?
HORSHAM. He's really very late. I told ... [_He stops._] Charles, I've
forgotten that man's name again.
CANTELUPE. Edmunds, you said it was.
HORSHAM.
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