The door is open, though, and you see the
light of the lamp on the stairs. You hear his footstep too. On his way he
stops to draw back the the curtains of the passage-way window; the moonlight
makes his face look very pale. Then he serves the curtains of his own window
the same; flings it open, moreover, and stands looking out. Something below
draws his attention. After leaning over the balcony with a short_ "Hullo"
_he goes quickly downstairs again. In a minute_ WEDGECROFT _comes up._
TREBELL _follows, pausing by the door a moment to light up the room._
WEDGECROFT _is radiant._
TREBELL. [_With a twist of his mouth._] Promised, has he?
WEDGECROFT. Suddenly broke out as we walked along, that he liked the look of
you and that men must stand by one another nowadays against these women.
Then he said good-night and walked away.
TREBELL. Back to Ireland and the thirteenth century.
WEDGECROFT. After to-morrow.
TREBELL. [_Taking all the meaning of to-morrow._] Yes. Are you in for
perjury, too?
WEDGECROFT. [_His thankfulness checked a little._] No ... not exactly.
TREBELL _walks away from him._
TREBELL. It's a pity the truth isn't to be told, I think. I suppose the
verdict will be murder.
WEDGECROFT. They won't catch the man.
TREBELL. You don't mean ... me.
WEDGECROFT. No, no ... my dear fellow.
TREBELL. You might, you know. But nobody seems to see this thing as I see
it.
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