Unknown.  Only since—­only since Good Friday.

Barthwick.  I am at a loss—­I repeat I am at a——­

[He glances at this unknown lady, who stands with eyes cast down, twisting her hands And suddenly Jack appears.  He stops on seeing who is here, and the unknown lady hysterically giggles.  There is a silence.]

Barthwick. [Portentously.] This young—­er—­lady says that last night—­I think you said last night madam—­you took away——­

Unknown. [Impulsively.] My reticule, and all my money was in a crimson silk purse.

Jack.  Reticule. [Looking round for any chance to get away.] I don’t know anything about it.

Barthwick. [Sharply.] Come, do you deny seeing this young lady last night?

Jack.  Deny?  No, of course. [Whispering.] Why did you give me away like this?  What on earth did you come here for?

Unknown. [Tearfully.] I’m sure I didn’t want to—­it’s not likely, is it?  You snatched it out of my hand—­you know you did—­and the purse had all my money in it.  I did n’t follow you last night because I did n’t want to make a fuss and it was so late, and you were so——­

Barthwick.  Come, sir, don’t turn your back on me—­explain!

Jack. [Desperately.] I don’t remember anything about it. [In a low voice to his friend.] Why on earth could n’t you have written?

Unknown. [Sullenly.] I want it now; I must have, it—­I ’ve got to pay my rent to-day. [She looks at Barthwick.] They’re only too glad to jump on people who are not—­not well off.

Jack.  I don’t remember anything about it, really.  I don’t remember anything about last night at all. [He puts his hand up to his head.] It’s all—­cloudy, and I ’ve got such a beastly headache.

Unknown.  But you took it; you know you did.  You said you’d score me off.

Jack.  Well, then, it must be here.  I remember now—­I remember something.  Why did I take the beastly thing?

Barthwick.  Yes, why did you take the beastly——­[He turns abruptly to the window.]

Unknown. [With her mesmeric smile.] You were n’t quite were you?

Jack. [Smiling pallidly.] I’m awfully sorry.  If there’s anything I can do——­

Barthwick.  Do?  You can restore this property, I suppose.

Jack.  I’ll go and have a look, but I really don’t think I ’ve got it.

[He goes out hurriedly.  And Barthwick, placing a chair, motions to the visitor to sit; then, with pursed lips, he stands and eyes her fixedly.  She sits, and steals a look at him; then turns away, and, drawing up her veil, stealthily wipes her eyes.  And Jack comes back.]

Jack. [Ruefully holding out the empty reticule.] Is that the thing?  I ’ve looked all over—­I can’t find the purse anywhere.  Are you sure it was there?