RAT. Why, unfortunately Mrs. Somerton is unable to give me the slightest clue. MRS. S. But I do possess a clue--a certain infallible one. POS. Ah!--then where is your clue--produce your clue--what is your clue? MRS. S. (_looking intently at RATCLIFFE_) A paper in the handwriting of this bold and impudent villain, (_RATCLIFFE slightly starts_) treating the matter as a commercial transaction, and affecting to acknowledge as a voluntary loan from me the amount of which he plundered me. RAT. (_quickly_) A most important document indeed, and of the utmost consequence that I should obtain immediate possession of it. MRS. S. (_sarcastically_) I believe you, sir; shall I fetch it? RAT. Certainly. MRS. S. And you _will remain here till I return?_ (_significantly_) RAT. Assuredly. MRS. S. (_hastily--aside to POSTLETHWAITE_) See that he does. _Exit hastily, L. D._ RAT. (_aside and agitated_) That cursed paper may betray me, and this mad desperate game will have been played in vain. POS. (_taking his arm and in a confidential manner_) Now between you and me and the post, if Cousin Somerton was to say to you, what will you give me for the chance of recovering my fifteen thousand pounds? what would you feel disposed to offer? RAT. Not fifteen thousand farthings. POS. (_aside_) The devil. RAT. But what of that; the loss of a few paltry thousand can never lessen the intense affection you feel for your charming cousin. POS. What do you mean by "intense affection?" I respect her--I like her--so I did my grandmother, but it never would occur to me to fall down and worship the ground she treads upon! besides to be candid with you, I don't think she is the sort of woman to fret herself into fiddlestrings about _me._ RAT. Indeed! POS. No; besides, I put it to you, would it not be most selfish, most unkind in me to take a mean advantage of her promise to marry me, and compel my young and lovely relative to spend the remainder of her existence with me in my second floor in Arabella Row, Pimlico. RAT. (_grasping POSTLETHWAITE'S hand_) That sentiment does you honour! Then she's at liberty to cancel her engagement to you? (_eagerly_) POS. Yes, from this moment she's at liberty. _Enter PEGGY running, L. U. E._ PEGGY. Where is he? (_comes down C._) Where's Mr. Superintendent? (_to RATCLIFFE_) Oh, sir, (_seeing POSTLETHWAITE_) Lor, Master Percy, is that you? (_throwing her arms round POSTLETHWAITE, then turning again to RATCLIFFE_) Oh, sir, I've got such news. (_to POSTLETHWAITE_) Lor bless'ee, I must have another buss. (_flinging her arms round POSTLETHWAITE_) POS. That'll do, Peggy; I appreciate your affection, but it rumples one's front. (_arranging his shirt_) PEGGY. (_to RATCLIFFE_) Then, sir--well, and so you must know that. (_turning to POSTLETHWAITE again_) Lor love'ee. (_about to embrace him again. POSTLETHWAITE turns away_)