expense. Nobody here is going to charge you.

THE BURGLAR. Oh, you won't charge me, won't you?

HECTOR. No. I'm sorry to be inhospitable; but will you kindly leave the
house?

THE BURGLAR. Right. I'll go to the police station and give myself up.
[He turns resolutely to the door: but Hector stops him].

HECTOR. { Oh, no. You mustn't do that.

RANDALL. [speaking together] { No no. Clear out man, can't you; and
don't be a fool.

MRS. HUSHABYE { Don't be so silly. Can't you repent at
home?

LADY UTTERWORD. You will have to do as you are told.

THE BURGLAR. It's compounding a felony, you know.

MRS HUSHABYE. This is utterly ridiculous. Are we to be forced to
prosecute this man when we don't want to?

THE BURGLAR. Am I to be robbed of my salvation to save you the trouble
of spending a day at the sessions? Is that justice? Is it right? Is it
fair to me?

MAZZINI [rising and leaning across the table persuasively as if it were
a pulpit desk or a shop counter]. Come, come! let me show you how you
can turn your very crimes to account. Why not set up as a locksmith? You
must know more about locks than most honest men?

THE BURGLAR. That's true, sir. But I couldn't set up as a locksmith
under twenty pounds.

RANDALL. Well, you can easily steal twenty pounds. You will find it in
the nearest bank.

THE BURGLAR [horrified]. Oh, what a thing for a gentleman to put into
the head of a poor criminal scrambling out of the bottomless pit as it
were! Oh, shame on you, sir! Oh, God forgive you! [He throws himself
into the big chair and covers his face as if in prayer].

LADY UTTERWORD. Really, Randall!

HECTOR. It seems to me that we shall have to take up a collection for
this inopportunely contrite sinner.

LADY UTTERWORD. But twenty pounds is ridiculous.

THE BURGLAR [looking up quickly]. I shall have to buy a lot of tools,
lady.

LADY UTTERWORD. Nonsense: you have your burgling kit.

THE BURGLAR. What's a jimmy and a centrebit and an acetylene welding
plant and a bunch of skeleton keys? I shall want a forge, and a smithy,
and a shop, and fittings. I can't hardly do it for twenty.

HECTOR. My worthy friend, we haven't got twenty pounds.

THE BURGLAR [now master of the situation]. You can raise it among you,
can't you?

MRS HUSHABYE. Give him a sovereign, Hector, and get rid of him.

HECTOR [giving him a pound]. Th