ROOPE.

[_Pointing to the telephone._] Telephone--have him round----

PHILIP.

He's not in London.

ROOPE.

Not----?

PHILIP.

He's gone to the Riviera--left this morning. [_Crossing to_ SIR RANDLE _and_ LADY FILSON_--appealingly._] Lady Filson--Sir Randle--_you_ don't believe that t.i.tterton and I could be guilty of such an arrant piece of knavery, do you? Ho, ho, ho! It's preposterous.

SIR RANDLE.

[_Constrainedly._] Frankly--I must be frank--I hardly know _what_ to believe.

LADY FILSON.

[_Pursing her mouth._] We--we hardly know _what_ to believe.

PHILIP.

[_Leaving them._] Ah----!

ROOPE.

[_Who has dropped into the chair by the smoking-table--to_ SIR RANDLE.]

Sir Randle--dear excellent friend--let us meet Mr. Dunning to-morrow at Messrs. Hopwood's in Carmichael Lane--we three--you and I and Mackworth----

PHILIP.

[_Pacing up and down between the table on the left and the bookcase._]

Yes, yes--before I wire to t.i.tterton--or see Curtis, his manager----

ROOPE.

[_Over his shoulder, to_ DUNNING.] Hey, Mr. Dunning?

DUNNING.

Pleasure.

[_While this has been going on,_ DUNNING _has put his note-book away and risen, gathering up his hat and overcoat as he does so._ BERTRAM _is now a.s.sisting him into his coat._

SIR RANDLE.

[_Advancing a step or two._] At what hour----?

DUNNING.

[_Briskly._] Ten-thirty suit you, gentlemen?

SIR RANDLE, PHILIP, _and_ ROOPE.

[_Together._] Half-past-ten.

ROOPE.

[_Scribbling with a pocket-pencil on his shirt-cuff._] 6, Carmichael Lane, Walbrook----

DUNNING.

[_Pulling down his under-coat._] I'll be there.

ROOPE.

[_Lowering his hands suddenly and leaning back in his chair, as if about to administer a poser._] By the way, Mr. Dunning, you tell us you have a strong conviction that Messrs. Hopwood & Co. are a myth, and their offices a sham--[_caustically_] may I ask whether you've tried to ascertain who _is_ the actual tenant of the room and cellar in Carmichael Lane?

BERTRAM.

[_Sn.i.g.g.e.ring._] Why, t.i.tterton, of course. I mean to _say_----!

ROOPE.

[_Waving_ BERTRAM _down._] Dear excellent friend----!

DUNNING.

[_Taking up his hat, which he has laid upon the smoking-table--to_ ROOPE, _with a satisfied air._] Mr. Sillitoe's got that in hand, sir.

What I _have_ ascertained is that a young feller strolls in occasionally and smokes a cigarette----

BERTRAM.

And pokes about in the cellar----

DUNNING.

_Calls_ himself Hopwood. But the name written on the lining of his hat--[_to_ BERTRAM, _carelessly_] oh, I forgot to mention this to you, Mr. Filson. [_Producing his memorandum-book again._] Old mother Sweasy was examining the young man's outdoor apparel the other day. [_Turning the pages with his wet thumb._] The name on the lining of his hat is--[_finding the entry_] is "Westrip." "Leonard Westrip."

BERTRAM.

Westrip?

SIR RANDLE.