ind up the affairs of the late Mr. Antony Clifton.

CLIFTON. Oh, certainly. Oh, there's no doubt about my being a solicitor.
My clerk, a man of the utmost integrity, not to say probity, would give
me a reference. I am in the books; I belong to the Law Society. But my
heart turns elsewhere. Officially I have embraced the profession of a
solicitor--(Frankly, to MRS. CRAWSHAW) But you know what these official
embraces are.

MARGARET. I'm afraid--(She turns to her husband for assistance.)

CLIFTON (to RICHARD). Unofficially, Mr. Meriton, I am wedded to the
Muses.

VIOLA. Dick, isn't he lovely?

CRAWSHAW. Quite so. But just for the moment, Mr. Clifton, I take it that
we are concerned with legal business. Should I ever wish to produce a
play, the case would be different.

CLIFTON. Admirably put. Pray regard me entirely as the solicitor for as
long as you wish. (He puts his hat down on a chair with the papers in
it, and taking off his gloves, goes on dreamily) Mr. Denis Clifton was
superb as a solicitor. In spite of an indifferent make-up, his manner of
taking off his gloves and dropping them into his hat--(He does so.)

MARGARET (to CRAWSHAW). I think, perhaps, Viola and I--

RICHARD (making a move too). We'll leave you to your business, Robert.

CLIFTON (holding up his hand). Just one moment if I may. I have a letter
for you, Mr. Meriton.

RICHARD (surprised). For me?

CLIFTON. Yes. My clerk, a man of the utmost integrity--oh, but I said
that before--he took it round to your rooms this morning, but found only
painters and decorators there. (He is feeling in his pockets and
now brings the letter out.) I brought it along, hoping that Mr.
Crawshaw--but of course I never expected anything so delightful as this.
(He hands over the letter with a bow.)

RICHARD. Thanks. (He puts it in his pocket.)

CLIFTON. Oh, but do read it now, won't you? (To MR. CRAWSHAW) One so
rarely has an opportunity of being present when one's own letters are
read. I think the habit they have on the stage of reading letters aloud
to other is such a very delightful one.

(RICHARD, with a smile and a shrug, has opened his letter while CLIFTON
is talking.)

RICHARD. Good Lord!

VIOLA. Dick, what is it?

RICHARD (reading). "199, Lincoln's Inn Fields. Dear Sir, I have the
pleasure to inform you that under the will of the late Mr. Antony
Clifton you are a beneficiary to the extent of L50,000."

VIOLA. Dick!

RICHARD. "A trifling conditio