Theodore starts to slowly walk up and down the aisle. Edmund furrows his brow, watching him with an indignant glare. Every single nick and mark on the chairs seems to intrigue Theodore, who runs his fingers along each imperfection and stares at it, his knees bent and face close.
This continues for a few minutes, Theodore pacing around the auditorium as Edmund grudgingly follows.
THEODORE, tauntingly and sarcastically: Your chairs seem to be of good condition.
EDMUND, with equal sarcasm: I try.
Theodore nods and continues, now heading towards the stage. When Edmund notices he's doing so, he seems to become wary, his eyebrows knitted together rather than furrowed. Theodore, ascending the ornate steps, walks to the charred figure first.
THEODORE: What's this? He bends down, wiping his fingers in the ash left on the floor and inspecting it.
EDMUND: Remnants. He pauses as though searching for the correct words. From my last opera.
THEODORE: Ah. And may I ask what this opera was about?
EDMUND: A judge. He would condemn his targets to the death penalty. He gestures to the figure. This one was accused of witchcraft and burnt.
Theodore rolls his eyes at Edmund's plot. Edmund seems to take a bit of offense from this, hurt appearing in his dark, formerly emotionless eyes.
Theodore continues into the backstage, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of what Edmund left unclean. Edmund walks up from behind him and, noticing his shocked expression, quickly steps back and out of his field of vision.
Theodore, instead of asking more questions, walks to each closet and throws open the doors. As he does so, various burnt objects tumble out onto his feet. He seems to become more and more frantic as this happens, as though looking for something to call Edmund out on.
As Theodore reaches the last closet that Edmund hadn't touched before, Edmund walks calmly to him.
EDMUND: You know, I don't think you have the right to be looking through my personal items.
Theodore hesitates, then turns towards Edmund.
THEODORE: I'm an investigator. I can look through what I want.
EDMUND: Not if I say otherwise.
THEODORE: What authority do you have over me?
Theodore turns back to the closet. Edmund furrows his brow again, obviously wronged by the lofty detective.
EDMUND: GET OUT OF HERE!
THEODORE: I will not tolerate being yelled at. I must finish my investigation.
EDMUND: And I won't tolerate being insulted! Get out!
Theodore shakes his head.
EDMUND: If you go near that closet, I'll--I'll--!
Theodore, ignoring Edmund, opens the closet. There's nothing inside. A look of disappointment and confusion crosses his face as he turns to leave.
THEODORE: I think that'll be all.