She,
for her suspicions, and you that you did not share them.
[Walks up and down.] How lucky the seals were not cut from that mortgage,
when the release was given. 'Tis like the silly security of the Trenchard's.
This mortgage makes Ravensdale mine, while the release that restores it
to its owner lies in the recess of the bureau, whose secret
my father revealed to me on his death bed. [Enter Murcott, L. 1 E.]
Write to the mortgagee of the Fanhill and Ellenthrope estates,
to foreclose before the week is out, and tell Walters and Brass
to put in execution to-day. We'll prick this wind-bag of a Baronet.
Abel, we have both a bone to pick with him and his daughter.
[Murcott starts.] Why, what's the matter?
Mur Nothing, the dizziness I've had lately.
Coyle Brandy in the evening, brandy in the morning, brandy all night.
What a fool you are, Murcott.
Mur Who knows that as well as I do?
Coyle If you would but keep the money out of your mouth,
there's the making of a man in you yet.
Mur No, no, it's gone too far, it's gone too far, thanks to the man
who owns this house, you know all about it.
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