Roper. [Raising his eyebrows.] H’m!  The purse!  Depravity in high life!  What does your son say?

Barthwick.  He remembers nothing.  D—­n!  Did you ever see such a mess?  It ’ll get into the papers.

Mrs. Barthwick. [With her hand across hey eyes.] Oh! it’s not that——­

     [Barthwick and Roper turn and look at her.]

Barthwick.  It’s the idea of that woman—­she’s just heard——­

     [Roper nods.  And Mrs. Barthwick, setting her lips, gives a
     slow look at Jack, and sits down at the table.]

What on earth’s to be done, Roper?  A ruffian like this Jones will make all the capital he can out of that purse.

Mrs. Barthwick.  I don’t believe that Jack took that purse.

Barthwick.  What—­when the woman came here for it this morning?

Mrs. Barthwick.  Here?  She had the impudence?  Why was n’t I told?

     [She looks round from face to face—­no one answers hey, there
     is a pause.]

Barthwick. [Suddenly.] What’s to be done, Roper?

Roper. [Quietly to Jack.] I suppose you did n’t leave your latch-key in the door?

Jack. [Sullenly.] Yes, I did.

Barthwick.  Good heavens!  What next?

Mrs. Barthwick.  I ’m certain you never let that man into the house, Jack, it’s a wild invention.  I’m sure there’s not a word of truth in it, Mr. Roper.

Roper. [Very suddenly.] Where did you sleep last night?

Jack. [Promptly.] On the sofa, there—­[hesitating]—­that is—­I——­

Barthwick.  On the sofa?  D’ you mean to say you did n’t go to bed?

Jack.[Sullenly.] No.

Barthwick.  If you don’t remember anything, how can you remember that?

Jack.  Because I woke up there in the morning.

Mrs. Barthwick.  Oh, Jack!

Barthwick.  Good Gracious!

Jack.  And Mrs. Jones saw me.  I wish you would n’t bait me so.

Roper.  Do you remember giving any one a drink?

Jack.  By Jove, I do seem to remember a fellow with—­a fellow with [He looks at Roper.] I say, d’ you want me——?

Roper. [Quick as lightning.] With a dirty face?

Jack. [With illumination.] I do—­I distinctly remember his——­

     [Barthwick moves abruptly; Mrs. Barthwick looks at Roper
     angrily, and touches her son’s arm.]

Mrs. Barthwick.  You don’t remember, it’s ridiculous!  I don’t believe the man was ever here at all.

Barthwick.  You must speak the truth, if it is the truth.  But if you do remember such a dirty business, I shall wash my hands of you altogether.