Plays : First Series. Galsworthy John

morning, so you must have been smokin' last night, sir. [Hesitating.] I 'm really afraid some one's purloined the box.

      JACK. [Uneasily.] Stolen it!

      BARTHWICK. What's that? The cigarette-box! Is anything else missing?

      MARLOW. No, sir; I 've been through the plate.

      BARTHWICK. Was the house all right this morning? None of the windows open?

      MARLOW. No, sir. [Quietly to JACK.] You left your latch-key in the door last night, sir.

      [He hands it back, unseen by BARTHWICK]

      JACK. Tst!

      BARTHWICK. Who's been in the room this morning?

      MARLOW. Me and Wheeler, and Mrs. Jones is all, sir, as far as I know.

      BARTHWICK. Have you asked Mrs. Barthwick?

      [To JACK.] Go and ask your mother if she's had it; ask her to look and see if she's missed anything else.

      [JACK goes upon this mission.]

      Nothing is more disquieting than losing things like this.

      MARLOW. No, sir.

      BARTHWICK. Have you any suspicions?

      MARLOW, No, sir.

      BARTHWICK. This Mrs. Jones – how long has she been working here?

      MARLOW. Only this last month, sir.

      BARTHWICK. What sort of person?

      MARLOW. I don't know much about her, sir; seems a very quiet, respectable woman.

      BARTHWICK. Who did the room this morning?

      MARLOW. Wheeler and Mrs. Jones, Sir.

      BARTHWICK. [With his forefinger upraised.] Now, was this Mrs.

      Jones in the room alone at any time?

      MARLOW. [Expressionless.] Yes, Sir.

      BARTHWICK. How do you know that?

      MARLOW. [Reluctantly.] I found her here, sir.

      BARTHWICK. And has Wheeler been in the room alone?

      MARLOW. No, sir, she's not, sir. I should say, sir, that Mrs. Jones seems a very honest —

      BARTHWICK. [Holding up his hand.] I want to know this: Has this

      Mrs. Jones been here the whole morning?

      MARLOW. Yes, sir – no, sir – she stepped over to the greengrocer's for cook.

      BARTHWICK. H'm! Is she in the house now?

      MARLOW. Yes, Sir.

      BARTHWICK. Very good. I shall make a point of clearing this up. On principle I shall make a point of fixing the responsibility; it goes to the foundations of security. In all your interests —

      MARLOW. Yes, Sir.

      BARTHWICK. What sort of circumstances is this Mrs. Jones in? Is her husband in work?

      MARLOW. I believe not, sir.

      BARTHWICK. Very well. Say nothing about it to any one. Tell

      Wheeler not to speak of it, and ask Mrs. Jones to step up here.

      MARLOW. Very good, sir.

      [MARLOW goes out, his face concerned; and BARTHWICK stays, his face judicial and a little pleased, as befits a man conducting an inquiry. MRS. BARTHWICK and hey son come in.]

      BARTHWICK. Well, my dear, you've not seen it, I suppose?

      MRS. BARTHWICK. No. But what an extraordinary thing, John! Marlow, of course, is out of the question. I 'm certain none of the maids as for cook!

      BARTHWICK. Oh, cook!

      MRS. BARTHWICK. Of course! It's perfectly detestable to me to suspect anybody.

      BARTHWICK. It is not a question of one's feelings. It's a question of justice. On principle —

      MRS. BARTHWICK. I should n't be a bit surprised if the charwoman knew something about it. It was Laura who recommended her.

      BARTHWICK. [Judicially.] I am going to have Mrs. Jones up. Leave it to me; and – er – remember that nobody is guilty until they're proved so. I shall be careful. I have no intention of frightening her; I shall give her every chance. I hear she's in poor circumstances. If we are not able to do much for them we are bound to have the greatest sympathy with the poor. [MRS. JONES comes in.] [Pleasantly.] Oh! good morning, Mrs. Jones.

      MRS. JONES. [Soft, and even, unemphatic.] Good morning, sir! Good morning, ma'am!

      BARTHWICK. About your husband – he's not in work, I hear?

      MRS. JONES. No, sir; of course he's not in work just now.

      BARTHWICK. Then I suppose he's earning nothing.

      MRS. JONES. No, sir, he's not earning anything just now, sir.

      BARTHWICK. And how many children have you?

      MRS. JONES. Three children; but of course they don't eat very much sir. [A little silence.]

      BARTHWICK. And how old is the eldest?

      MRS. JONES. Nine years old, sir.

      BARTHWICK. Do they go to school?

      MRS. JONES, Yes, sir, they all three go to school every day.

      BARTHWICK. [Severely.] And what about their food when you're out at work?

      MRS. JONES. Well, Sir, I have to give them their dinner to take with them. Of course I 'm not always able to give them anything; sometimes I have to send them without; but my husband is very good about the children when he's in work. But when he's not in work of course he's a very difficult man.

      BARTHWICK. He drinks, I suppose?

      MRS. JONES. Yes, Sir. Of course I can't say he does n't drink, because he does.

      BARTHWICK. And I suppose he takes all your money?

      MRS. JONES. No, sir, he's very good about my money, except when he's not himself, and then, of course, he treats me very badly.

      BARTHWICK. Now what is he – your husband?

      MRS. JONES. By profession, sir, of course he's a groom.

      BARTHWICK. A groom! How came he to lose his place?

      MRS. JONES. He lost his place a long time ago, sir, and he's never had a very long job since; and now, of course, the motor-cars are against him.

      BARTHWICK. When were you married to him, Mrs. Jones?

      MRS. JONES. Eight years ago, sir that was in —

      MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] Eight? You said the eldest child was nine.

      MRS. JONES. Yes, ma'am; of course that was why he lost his place. He did n't treat me rightly, and of course his employer said he couldn't keep him because of the example.

      BARTHWICK. You mean he – ahem —

      MRS. JONES. Yes, sir; and of course after he lost his place he married me.

      MRS. BARTHWICK. You actually mean to say you – you were —

      BARTHWICK. My dear —

      MRS. BARTHWICK. [Indignantly.] How disgraceful!

      BARTHWICK. [Hurriedly.] And where are you living now, Mrs. Jones?

      MRS. JONES. We've not got a home, sir. Of course we've been obliged to put away most of our things.

      BARTHWICK. Put your things away! You mean to – to – er – to pawn them?

      MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, to put them away. We're living in Merthyr Street – that is close by here, sir – at No. 34. We just have the one room.

      BARTHWICK. And what do you pay a week?

      MRS. JONES. We pay six shillings a week, sir, for a furnished room.

      BARTHWICK. And I suppose you're behind in the rent?

      MRS. JONES. Yes, sir, we're a little behind in the rent.

      BARTHWICK.