De Levis.  Accusation.

Canynge.  What!

De Levis.  I have intuitions, General; it’s in my blood.  I see the whole thing.  Dancy came up, watched me into the bathroom, tried my door, slipped back into his dressing-room, saw my window was open, took that jump, sneaked the notes, filled the case up with these, wrenched the creeper there [He points stage Left] for a blind, jumped back, and slipped downstairs again.  It didn’t take him four minutes altogether.

Canynge. [Very gravely] This is outrageous, De Levis.  Dancy says he was downstairs all the time.  You must either withdraw unreservedly, or I must confront you with him.

De Levis.  If he’ll return the notes and apologise, I’ll do nothing—­ except cut him in future.  He gave me that filly, you know, as a hopeless weed, and he’s been pretty sick ever since, that he was such a flat as not to see how good she was.  Besides, he’s hard up, I know.

Canynge. [After a vexed turn up and down the room] It’s mad, sir, to jump to conclusions like this.

De Levis.  Not so mad as the conclusion Dancy jumped to when he lighted on my balcony.

Canynge.  Nobody could have taken this money who did not know you had it.

De Levis.  How do you know that he didn’t?

Canynge.  Do you know that he did?

De Levis.  I haven’t the least doubt of it.

Canynge.  Without any proof.  This is very ugly, De Levis.  I must tell
Winsor.

De Levis. [Angrily] Tell the whole blooming lot.  You think I’ve no feelers, but I’ve felt the atmosphere here, I can tell you, General.  If I were in Dancy’s shoes and he in mine, your tone to me would be very different.

Canynge. [Suavely frigid] I’m not aware of using any tone, as you call it.  But this is a private house, Mr De Levis, and something is due to our host and to the esprit de corps that exists among gentlemen.

De Levis.  Since when is a thief a gentleman?  Thick as thieves—­a good motto, isn’t it?

Canynge.  That’s enough! [He goes to the door, but stops before opening it] Now, look here!  I have some knowledge of the world.  Once an accusation like this passes beyond these walls no one can foresee the consequences.  Captain Dancy is a gallant fellow, with a fine record as a soldier; and only just married.  If he’s as innocent as—­Christ—­mud will stick to him, unless the real thief is found.  In the old days of swords, either you or he would not have gone out of this room alive.  It you persist in this absurd accusation, you will both of you go out of this room dead in the eyes of Society:  you for bringing it, he for being the object of it.