JACK. It was pure sport. I don't know how I got the thing. Of course I 'd had a bit of a row--I did n't know what I was doing--I was--I Was--well, you know--I suppose I must have pulled the bag out of her hand. MRS. BARTHWICK. Out of her hand? Whose hand? What bag--whose bag? JACK. Oh! I don't know--her bag--it belonged to--[in a desperate and rising voice] a woman. MRS. BARTHWICK. A woman? Oh! Jack! No! JACK. [Jumping up.] You would have it. I did n't want to tell you. It's not my fault. [The door opens and MARLOW ushers in a man of middle age, inclined to corpulence, in evening dress. He has a ruddy, thin moustache, and dark, quick-moving little eyes. His eyebrows aye Chinese.] MARLOW. Mr. Roper, Sir. [He leaves the room.] ROPER. [With a quick look round.] How do you do? [But neither JACK nor MRS. BARTHWICK make a sign.] BARTHWICK. [Hurrying.] Thank goodness you've come, Roper. You remember what I told you this afternoon; we've just had the detective here. ROPER. Got the box? BARTHWICK. Yes, yes, but look here--it was n't the charwoman at all; her drunken loafer of a husband took the things--he says that fellow there [he waves his hand at JACK, who with his shoulder raised, seems trying to ward off a blow] let him into the house last night. Can you imagine such a thing. [Roper laughs. ] BARTHWICK. [With excited emphasis.]. It's no laughing matter, Roper. I told you about that business of Jack's too--don't you see the brute took both the things--took that infernal purse. It'll get into the papers. ROPER. [Raising his eyebrows.] H'm! The purse! Depravity in high life! What does your son say? BARTHWICK. He remembers nothing. D--n! Did you ever see such a mess? It 'll get into the papers. MRS. BARTHWICK. [With her hand across hey eyes.] Oh! it's not that---- [BARTHWICK and ROPER turn and look at her.] BARTHWICK. It's the idea of that woman--she's just heard---- [ROPER nods. And MRS. BARTHWICK, setting her lips, gives a slow look at JACK, and sits down at the table.] What on earth's to be done, Roper? A ruffian like this Jones will make all the capital he can out of that purse. MRS. BARTHWICK. I don't believe that Jack took that purse. BARTHWICK. What--when the woman came here for it this morning? MRS. BARTHWICK. Here? She had the impudence? Why was n't I told? [She looks round from face to face--no one answers hey, there is a pause.] BARTHWICK. [Suddenly.] What's to be done, Roper? ROPER. [Quietly to JACK.] I suppose you did n't leave your latch-key in the door? JACK. [Sullenly.] Yes, I did. BARTHWICK. Good heavens! What next? MRS. BARTHWICK. I 'm certain you never let that man into the house, Jack, it's a wild invention. I'm sure there's not a word of truth in it, Mr. Roper. ROPER. [Very suddenly.] Where did you sleep last night?