MRS. WESTERN. Well?
MARTIN. It couldn't have fallen anywhere into your dress, madam?
MRS. WESTERN. Nonsense, how could it? [_She gets up and shakes herself._]
Absurd. [_She sits again._
MARTIN. Into your cloak?
MRS. WESTERN. Silk! No. That'll do, Martin. You might help the others
outside. [MARTIN _goes._