FALDER. I don't know, sir--it's very funny.

WALTER, who has come close to his father, says something to him
in a low voice.

JAMES. Davis was not here again after that Saturday, was he?

COKESON. [Anxious to be of assistance to the young man, and seeing
faint signs of their all being jolly once more] No, he sailed on the
Monday.

JAMES. Was he, Falder?

FALDER. [Very faintly] No, sir.

JAMES. Very well, then, how do you account for the fact that this
nought was added to the nine in the counterfoil on or after Tuesday?

COKESON. [Surprised] How's that?

FALDER gives a sort of lurch; he tries to pull himself together,
but he has gone all to pieces.

JAMES. [Very grimly] Out, I'm afraid, Cokeson. The cheque-book
remained in Mr. Walter's pocket till he came back from Trenton on
Tuesday morning. In the face of this, Falder, do you still deny that
you altered both cheque and counterfoil?

FALDER. No, sir--no, Mr. How. I did it, sir; I did it.

COKESON. [Succumbing to his feelings] Dear, dear! what a thing to
do!

FALDER. I wanted the money so badly, sir. I didn't know what I was
doing.

COKESON. However such a thing could have come into your head!

FALDER. [Grasping at the words] I can't think, sir, really! It was
just a minute of madness.

JAMES. A long minute, Falder. [Tapping the counterfoil] Four days
at least.

FALDER. Sir, I swear I didn't know what I'd done till afterwards,
and then I hadn't the pluck. Oh! Sir, look over it! I'll pay the
money back--I will, I promise.

JAMES. Go into your room.

FALDER, with a swift imploring look, goes back into his room.
There is silence.

JAMES. About as bad a case as there could be.

COKESON. To break the law like that-in here!

WALTER. What's to be done?

JAMES. Nothing for it. Prosecute.

WALTER. It's his first offence.

JAMES. [Shaking his head] I've grave doubts of that. Too neat a
piece of swindling altogether.

COKESON. I shouldn't be surprised if he was tempted.

JAMES. Life's one long temptation, Cokeson.

COKESON. Ye-es, but I'm speaking of the flesh and the devil, Mr.
James. There was a woman come to see him this morning.

WALTER. The woman we passed as we came in just now. Is it his wife?

COKESON. No, no relation. [Restraining what in jollier
circumstances would have been a wink] A married person, though.

WALTER. How do you know?

COKESON. Brou