KERCHIVAL. Certainly, madam!
MRS. HAVERILL. It would render him anxious without cause.
KERCHIVAL [_Aside_.] It looks as if Robert was right; she doesn't want
the two men to meet.
_Enter_ HAVERILL. _A white silk handkerchief is in his hand_.
HAVERILL. Constance, my dear, I've been all over the place looking for
you. I thought you were in your room. But--by the way, Kerchival, this
is your handkerchief; your initials are on it. [KERCHIVAL _turns and
stares at him a second_. MRS. HAVERILL _starts slightly and turns
front_. HAVERILL _glances quickly from one to the other, then extends
his hands toward_ KERCHIVAL, _with the handkerchief_. KERCHIVAL _takes
it_. MRS. HAVERILL _drops into chair_.
KERCHIVAL. Thank you. [_He exits with a quick glance back._ HAVERILL
_looks at_ MRS. HAVERILL, _who sits nervously looking away. He then
glances after_ KERCHIVAL. _A cloud comes over his face, and he stands
a second in thought. Then, with a movement as if brushing away a
passing suspicion, he smiles pleasantly and approaches_ MRS. HAVERILL;
_leans over her_.
HAVERILL. My fair Desdemona! [_Smiling_.] I found Cassio's
handkerchief in your room.
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