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(JEFF lights his cigarette. At the same moment, JUSTIN flicks the lighter he holds, sees Jeff has his own, so extinguishes it quickly, and puts it on the table L)

JUSTIN. I see.

JEFF. Of course—I suppose making all these enquiries would be quite—er—good business for your firm. You know, fees, expenses, all that . . .

JUSTIN. (crossing below Jeff toR) We are a firm of solicitors, you know, not inquiry agents.

JEFF. Sorry, must have explained myself clumsily.

JUSTIN. Yes.

JEFF. What I want to say is—I’ll stump up the necessary—but drop it.

JUSTIN. (moving behind the desk) You will excuse me, Mr.—er . . . but Miss Le Marchant is my client.

JEFF. (rising) Yep, well, if you’re acting for Carla, you must agree that it’s best for her not to go harrowing herself raking up the past. Make her give it up. Once we’re married, she’ll never think of it again.

JUSTIN. And will you never think of it again?

JEFF. That’s a good question. Yes, I dare say I’ll have one or two nasty moments.

JUSTIN. If the coffee should taste bitter . . . ?

JEFF. That sort of thing.

JUSTIN. Which won’t be very pleasant for her.

JEFF. (cheerily) Well, what can a man do? You can’t undo the past. Glad to have met you, Fogg. (He offers his hand)

(JUSTIN looks at Jeff’s hand, then picks up Jeff’s hat from the desk and puts it in the outstretched hand. JEFF exits. JUSTIN turns to the window, opens it wide, then lifts the telephone receiver)

JUSTIN. (into the telephone) Has Miss Le Marchant left yet? . . . Well, ask her to come back for a minute. I shan’t keep her long. (He replaces the receiver, crosses to the table L, takes a cigarette from the box, lights it, then returns to R of the desk)

(CARLA enters)

CARLA. (looking coldly at Justin) Yes?

JUSTIN. I’ve changed my mind.

CARLA. (startled) What?

JUSTIN. That’s all. I’ve changed my mind. I will fix up an appointment for you to see Mr. Philip Blake here. I will let you know when.

(CARLA smiles)

Go on. Don’t keep Mr.—er . . . don’t keep him waiting. He wouldn’t be pleased. You’ll be hearing from me. (He ushers Carla to the arch)

(CARLA exits)

(He goes to the desk and lifts the receiver. Into the telephone) Get me Kellway, Blake and Leverstein, will you? I want to speak to Mr. Philip Blake personally. (He replaces the receiver) Cattle breeding!

The lights dim toBLACK-OUT

Scene II

SCENE—Justin Fogg’s room.

It is a very handsome room. A door upRleads to the outer office. UpLis a cupboard for drinks, let into the wall. A large and ornate desk isLwith a damask-covered swivel chair behind it. A chair, to match, for visitors is downR. There are shaded, electric wall-bracketsRandL. On the desk there is an intercom in addition to the telephone.

When theLIGHTScome up,PHILIPBLAKEis sitting at the desk, smoking and reading the “Financial Times.” He is a good-looking man of fifty odd, grey at the temples, with a slight paunch. He is self-important, with traces of nervous irritability. He is very sure of himself. The intercom buzzes.PHILIPpresses the switch.

PHILIP. (into the intercom) Yes?

VOICE. (through the intercom) Miss Le Marchant’s here, Mr. Blake.

PHILIP. Ask her to come in.

VOICE. Yes, Mr. Blake.