Marlow.  No, sir. [Quietly to jack.] You left your latch-key in the door last night, sir.

     [He hands it back, unseen by Barthwick]

Jack.  Tst!

Barthwick.  Who’s been in the room this morning?

Marlow.  Me and Wheeler, and Mrs. Jones is all, sir, as far as I know.

Barthwick.  Have you asked Mrs. Barthwick?

[To jack.] Go and ask your mother if she’s had it; ask her to look and see if she’s missed anything else.

     [Jack goes upon this mission.]

Nothing is more disquieting than losing things like this.

Marlow.  No, sir.

Barthwick.  Have you any suspicions?

Marlow, No, sir.

Barthwick.  This Mrs. Jones—­how long has she been working here?

Marlow.  Only this last month, sir.

Barthwick.  What sort of person?

Marlow.  I don’t know much about her, sir; seems a very quiet, respectable woman.

Barthwick.  Who did the room this morning?

Marlow.  Wheeler and Mrs. Jones, Sir.

Barthwick. [With his forefinger upraised.] Now, was this Mrs.
Jones in the room alone at any time?

Marlow. [Expressionless.] Yes, Sir.

Barthwick.  How do you know that?

Marlow. [Reluctantly.] I found her here, sir.

Barthwick.  And has Wheeler been in the room alone?

Marlow.  No, sir, she’s not, sir.  I should say, sir, that Mrs.
Jones seems a very honest——­

Barthwick. [Holding up his hand.] I want to know this:  Has this
Mrs. Jones been here the whole morning?

Marlow.  Yes, sir—­no, sir—­she stepped over to the greengrocer’s for cook.

Barthwick.  H’m!  Is she in the house now?

Marlow.  Yes, Sir.

Barthwick.  Very good.  I shall make a point of clearing this up.  On principle I shall make a point of fixing the responsibility; it goes to the foundations of security.  In all your interests——­

Marlow.  Yes, Sir.

Barthwick.  What sort of circumstances is this Mrs. Jones in?  Is her husband in work?

Marlow.  I believe not, sir.

Barthwick.  Very well.  Say nothing about it to any one.  Tell
Wheeler not to speak of it, and ask Mrs. Jones to step up here.

Marlow.  Very good, sir.

     [Marlow goes out, his face concerned; and Barthwick stays, his
     face judicial and a little pleased, as befits a man conducting
     an inquiry.  Mrs. Barthwick and hey son come in.]

Barthwick.  Well, my dear, you’ve not seen it, I suppose?

Mrs. Barthwick.  No.  But what an extraordinary thing, John!  Marlow, of course, is out of the question.  I ’m certain none of the maids as for cook!