ACT FIRST SCENE I
LONDON. FOX'S LODGINGS, ARLINGTON STREET
Fox, the Foreign Secretary in the new Ministry of All-tbe-Talents, sits at a table writing. He is a stout, swarthy man, with shaggy eyebrows, and his breathing is somewhat obstructed. His clothes look as though they had been slept in. TROTTER, his private secretary, is writing at another table near.
A servant enters.
SERVANT Another stranger presses to see you, sir.
Fox (without raising his eyes) Oh ; another. What's he like ?
A foreigner,, sir; though not so out-at-elbows as migfit be thought from the denomination. He says he's from Gravesend, having lately left Paris, and that you sent him a passport. He comes with a police-officer.
Ah, to be sure. I remember. Bring him in, and tell the officer to wait outside. (Servant goes out.) Trotter, will you leave us for a few minutes ? But be within hail.