[Sitting.] How simultaneous!
[WELLWYN and FERRAND approach hastily.]
FERRAND. [Pointing to TIMSON.] Monsieur, it was true, it seems.
They had lost sight of the individual.
[A Policeman has appeared under the street lamp. He picks up
HOXTON'S hat.]
CONSTABLE. Anything wrong, sir?
HOXTON. [Recovering his feet.] Wrong? Great Scott! Constable!
Why do you let things lie about in the street like this? Look here,
Wellyn!
[They all scrutinize TIMSON.]
WELLWYN. It's only the old fellow whose reform you were discussing.
HOXTON. How did he come here?
CONSTABLE. Drunk, sir. [Ascertaining TIMSON to be in the street.]
Just off the premises, by good luck. Come along, father.
TIMSON. [Assisted to his feet-drowsily.] Cert'nly, by no means;
take my arm.
[They move from the doorway. HOXTON and CALWAY re-enter, and
go towards the fire.]
ANN. [Entering from the house.] What's happened?
CALWAY. Might we have a brush?
HOXTON. [Testily.] Let it dry!
[He moves to the fire and stands before it. PROFESSOR CALWAY
following stands a little behind him.
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