To have a better lock put upon the north door of her dressing room.
CHARVILLE.
On that door? has it not been nailed up for a long time?
DICKENSON.
Yes, Sir, but she has a fancy to have it opened.
CHARVILLE.
A fancy! I'll have no locksmiths: I'll have none of his jobs done here.
DICKENSON.
It would be so convenient for my lady, Sir; for it leads to the back staircase.
CHARVILLE.
It leads to the black devil!—Let him take his smutty face out of my house, I say; I'll have none of his jobs done here.
[ExitDickenson.
Preparations making for some damned plot or other. O, if I could but devise some means of coming at the bottom of it!—Wonderfully anxious that I should go from home now and then; to amuse myself; to bring her the news, forsooth.—Could I but devise any means. (Stands a while considering, then takes a turn across the room with slow thoughtful steps, then rouses himself suddenly, and rings the bell.)