my purse, in the reticule. It was a crimson silk
purse. Really, I wouldn't have come--I don't want to make any fuss.
But I must get my money back--mustn't I?

BARTHWICK. Do you tell me that my son----?

UNKNOWN. Oh! well, you see, he was n't quite I mean he was

[She smiles mesmerically.]

BARTHWICK. I beg your pardon.

UNKNOWN. [Stamping her foot.] Oh! don't you see--tipsy! We had a
quarrel.

BARTHWICK. [Scandalised.] How? Where?

UNKNOWN. [Defiantly.] At my place. We'd had supper at the----and
your son----

BARTHWICK. [Pressing the bell.] May I ask how you knew this house?
Did he give you his name and address?

UNKNOWN. [Glancing sidelong.] I got it out of his overcoat.

BARTHWICK. [Sardonically.] Oh! you got it out of his overcoat.
And may I ask if my son will know you by daylight?

UNKNOWN. Know me? I should jolly--I mean, of course he will!
[MARLOW comes in.]

BARTHWICK. Ask Mr. John to come down.

[MARLOW goes out, and BARTHWICK walks uneasily about.]

And how long have you enjoyed his acquaintanceship?

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