MRS. JONES. He gets to feeling very low walking about all day after work, and being refused so often, and then when he gets a drop in him it goes to his head. But he shouldn't treat his wife as he treats me. Sometimes I 've had to go and walk about at night, when he wouldn't let me stay in the room; but he's sorry for it afterwards. And he hangs about after me, he waits for me in the street; and I don't think he ought to, because I 've always been a good wife to him. And I tell him Mrs. Barthwick wouldn't like him coming about the place. But that only makes him angry, and he says dreadful things about the gentry. Of course it was through me that he first lost his place, through his not treating me right; and that's made him bitter against the gentry. He had a very good place as groom in the country; but it made such a stir, because of course he did n't treat me right. MARLOW. Got the sack? MRS. JONES. Yes; his employer said he couldn't keep him, because there was a great deal of talk; and he said it was such a bad example. But it's very important for me to keep my work here; I have the three children, and I don't want him to come about after me in the streets, and make a disturbance as he sometimes does. MARLOW. [Holding up the empty decanter.] Not a drain! Next time he hits you get a witness and go down to the court---- MRS. JONES. Yes, I think I 've made up my mind. I think I ought to. MARLOW. That's right. Where's the ciga----? [He searches for the silver box; he looks at MRS. JONES, who is sweeping on her hands and knees; he checks himself and stands reflecting. From the tray he picks two half-smoked cigarettes, and reads the name on them.] Nestor--where the deuce----? [With a meditative air he looks again at MRS. JONES, and, taking up JACK'S overcoat, he searches in the pockets. WHEELER, with a tray of breakfast things, comes in.] MARLOW. [Aside to WHEELER.] Have you seen the cigarette-box? WHEELER. No. MARLOW. Well, it's gone. I put it on the tray last night. And he's been smoking. [Showing her the ends of cigarettes.] It's not in these pockets. He can't have taken it upstairs this morning! Have a good look in his room when he comes down. Who's been in here? WHEELER. Only me and Mrs. Jones. MRS. JONES. I 've finished here; shall I do the drawing-room now? WHEELER. [Looking at her doubtfully.] Have you seen----Better do the boudwower first. [MRS. JONES goes out with pan and brush. MARLOW and WHEELER look each other in the face.] MARLOW. It'll turn up. WHEELER. [Hesitating.] You don't think she---- [Nodding at the door.] MARLOW. [Stoutly.] I don't----I never believes anything of anybody. WHEELER. But the master'll have to be told. MARLOW. You wait a bit, and see if it don't turn up. Suspicion's no business of ours. I set my mind against it. The curtain falls. The curtain rises again at once.