hand.

WINSOR. Half a second, Margaret. Wait for me. She nods and goes out.
Mr Twisden, what do you really think?

TWISDEN. I am Dancy's lawyer, my dear Charles, as well as yours.

WINSOR. Well, can I go and see Canynge?

TWISDEN. Better not.

WINSOR. If they get that out of him, and recall me, am I to say he told
me of it at the time?

TWISDEN. You didn't feel the coat yourself? And Dancy wasn't present?
Then what Canynge told you is not evidence--he'll stop your being asked.

WINSOR. Thank goodness. Good-bye!

WINSOR goes out.

TWISDEN, behind his table, motionless, taps his teeth with the
eyeglasses in his narrow, well-kept hand. After a long shake of his
head and a shrug of his rather high shoulders he snips, goes to the
window and opens it. Then crossing to the door, Left Back, he
throws it open and says

TWISDEN. At your service, sir.

GILMAN comes forth, nursing his pot hat.

Be seated.

TWISDEN closes the window behind him, and takes his seat.

GILMAN. [Taking the client's chair, to the left of the table] Mr
Twisden, I believe? My name's Gilman, head of Gilman's Department
Stores. You have my card.

TWISDEN. [Looking at the card] Yes. What can we do for you?

GILMAN. Well, I've come to you from a sense of duty, sir, and also a
feelin' of embarrassment. [He takes from his breast pocket an evening
paper] You see, I've been followin' this Dancy case--it's a good deal
talked of in Putney--and I read this at half-past two this afternoon. To
be precise, at 2.25. [He rises and hands the paper to TWISDEN, and with
a thick gloved forefinger indicates a passage] When I read these numbers,
I 'appened to remember givin' change for a fifty-pound note--don't often
'ave one in, you know--so I went to the cash-box out of curiosity, to see
that I 'adn't got it. Well, I 'ad; and here it is. [He draws out from
his breast pocket and lays before TWISDEN a fifty-pound banknote] It was
brought in to change by a customer of mine three days ago, and he got
value for it. Now, that's a stolen note, it seems, and you'd like to
know what I did. Mind you, that customer of mine I've known 'im--well--
eight or nine years; an Italian he is--wine salesman, and so far's I
know, a respectable man-foreign-lookin', but nothin' more. Now, this was
at 'alf-past two, and I was at my head branch at Putney, where I live.
I want you to mark the time, so as you'll see