Ste. (_pause_). And if we are? (_Rises._) Smiths, (_to Stephen_). And if we are, some one's blabbed. Bam. (_to Stephen_). And you're the only one who pays afternoon calls in the Polygon. Ste. (_bending over table, beneath his breath_). Fools! (_Aloud._) Do you think I foul my own nest? Bam. Then if it isn't you, who is it? Tell me that. (_Stephen looks first at Bamford, then Smithson, then suddenly moves to door l. and calls._) Ste. Lucy! Lucy! Come here! (_Returns above table._) Bam. That's the worst of having a woman in the thing. They will talk. Ste. How could she talk? She knew nothing. (_Lucy enters._) Walter (_l._). Funny how things get about, isn't it? Lucy (_up l._). _Did_ you call me, father? Ste. (_to Walter, still ignoring Lucy_). Get about? How many have you told? Walter. Oh, I've told nobody. Secrets cease to be valuable when they're told, and I don't mind telling you this secret's going to be a valuable lever to me. Ste. (_to Lucy_). You've been talking to him. Lucy (_up l._). Yes. I told him all you told me. Ste. I didn't tell you anything. Lucy. Oh, yes. You and Mr. Bamford. (_Stephen turns on Bamford._) Bam. I? I never breathed. Lucy. You squabbled together about the profits. Bam. We _did_ say something. Ste. And you pieced it out from that? Lucy. Yes. Bam. Um! smart girl, Verity. Chip of the old block. Ste. Bit too smart this time. I hope she'll never play _you_ a trick like that. Bam. Yes, by Gad. I hadn't thought of that. Walter. Well, gentlemen? Ste. Oh, I'll attend to you. Look here, Sam--Smithson, I'll tackle this chap. Just go into the other room there, will you? (_Pushes Smithson to go below table._) I've a private word for the parson. Bam. Can I smoke there? Ste. (_r. c._). Aye. (_Exeunt l., Bamford and Smithson. Walter before fireplace, Lucy c, above table, Stephen r. of table._) Now, Mr. Montgomery, my lad, what sort of a trick do you call this to play on your future father-in-law? You've a queer idea of tact, you have. Walter. It wasn't my intention to be tactful, sir. Ste. You're not improving your chances of marrying my daughter, you know. Walter. How do you know I want to marry her? Lucy. Walter! Ste. Why, you told me so yourself, the other night. (_Lucy sits in armchair l. above fire._) Walter. Since then, you see, I've made discoveries. If a man is known by the company he keeps, the same applies to a woman. The woman I'm going to marry doesn't, help to form a robbery syndicate along with Messieurs Alcorn, Smithson and Bamford. So if you thought to buy my silence by giving me your daughter, you made a bad mistake. No. Bamford's the man for her. Partners in scoundrelism, partners in life. (_Enter Bamford l. and crosses r. c._) Ste. What do you want now? Bam. (_apologetically, crossing r._). All right. I only want my pipe. Left it in my overcoat. Walter. Mr. Bamford, I congratulate you. (_Holding out hand._) Bam. Eh? On what?