"Besides, there are other concerns. Suppose this--What did you call him?" "Falconer." "Suppose this Falconer sells the play to a printer, who publishes it and has it registered. Then the Chamberlain's Men lose all legal right to perform it ourselves." "Oh. I didn't ken." "We generally delay publication as long as possible. Some companies care little for registrations or rights, and to print the play is the same as saying 'Here it is, and welcome to it.' Yet if we don't publish it ourselves, someone will sell a pirated version. It's a tricky and an unfair business." "Aye, I see that now." I felt more ashamed than ever of the part I'd played in the whole affair. I wanted to believe that we still might retrieve the play book, but knowing Falconer, I did not hold out much hope. Even if we did catch up with him, he was not likely to just apologize and hand it over. By the time we reached St. Paul's and turned on to Aldersgate Street, I was sweating and trembling as if in the grip of the ague. But with the gate in sight, I managed to push myself yet a little farther. A ragged, legless beggar sat by the gate. Mr. Armin crouched and dropped a"