[MARLOW goes out with a private gesture of dismay. He soon returns, ushering in a young pale lady with dark eyes and pretty figure, in a modish, black, but rather shabby dress, a black and white trimmed hat with a bunch of Parma violets wrongly placed, and fuzzy-spotted veil. At the Sight of MR. BARTHWICK she exhibits every sign of nervousness. MARLOW goes out.] UNKNOWN LADY. Oh! but--I beg pardon there's some mistake--I [She turns to fly.] BARTHWICK. Whom did you want to see, madam? UNKNOWN. [Stopping and looking back.] It was Mr. John Barthwick I wanted to see. BARTHWICK. I am John Barthwick, madam. What can I have the pleasure of doing for you? UNKNOWN. Oh! I--I don't [She drops her eyes. BARTHWICK scrutinises her, and purses his lips.] BARTHWICK. It was my son, perhaps, you wished to see? UNKNOWN. [Quickly.] Yes, of course, it's your son. BARTHWICK. May I ask whom I have the pleasure of speaking to? UNKNOWN. [Appeal and hardiness upon her face.] My name is----oh! it does n't matter--I don't want to make any fuss. I just want to see your son for a minute. [Boldly.] In fact, I must see him. BARTHWICK. [Controlling his uneasiness.] My son is not very well. If necessary, no doubt I could attend to the matter; be so kind as to let me know---- UNKNOWN. Oh! but I must see him--I 've come on purpose--[She bursts out nervously.] I don't want to make any fuss, but the fact is, last--last night your son took away--he took away my [She stops.] BARTHWICK. [Severely.] Yes, madam, what? UNKNOWN. He took away my--my reticule. BARTHWICK. Your reti----? UNKNOWN. I don't care about the reticule; it's not that I want--I 'm sure I don't want to make any fuss--[her face is quivering]--but --but--all my money was in it! BARTHWICK. In what--in what? UNKNOWN. In 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.