WHITE. I did. The policeman turned him out, I believe. DE W. True--ahem! Some such brutal occurrence did take place; I was the man that wept, sir, you were the man that made me weep; you touched my heart, sir, you touched my heart. WHITE. (_aside_) Really, a most sensible old gentleman! DE W. Lingering at the door, I learned that the prisoner was acquitted. So I walked home, and I said to myself--Whitewash is my destined son-in-law. I as a manufacturer of fancy soap remove physical impurities from the skin; Whitewash effaces the blots that calumny has cast upon innocence. WHITE. Innocence! DE W. Of course; no one knows better than you that that poor persecuted being was innocence itself. WHITE. (_coolly_) Oh, yes--yes. DE W. What delight you must have felt in restoring him to his weeping wife, and those five small children! WHITE. Wife! children! Oh! ah! I believe I did use the expression. DE W. But there's a further pleasure in store for you. You know I always follow the dictates of my heart. Well--well, my heart told me that society owed that poor persecuted being a reparation, and was bound to declare that he had not forfeited his social position. In a word, sir, I've invited him to my ball this evening. WHITE. (_rises_) Here? To your house? A fellow with the taint of the dock fresh upon him! DE W. A taint that he did not merit--a taint that you have so nobly removed. (_rises_) WHITE. (_aside_) Oh, this is an old fool! _Enter AGATHA, C., and down, L._ AGATHA. (L.) Oh, papa, they are nearly all assembled in the other room. DE W. (C.) Come along then--come along, that I may introduce you as my son-in-law. Come, defender of persecuted innocence! WHITE. (_to AGATHA_) Mind the first set--the Lancers--the---- DE W. Come along. (_taking his arm_) _Exeunt DE WINDSOR and WHITEWASH, C. off L._ AGATHA. (_looking about_) Very foolish of my aunt not to fasten her bracelet better. It can't be here;--I don't believe she has been in this room. Tut, tut! (_goes up, R._) _Enter THWAITES, L. D. 2 E._ THWAITES. (_announcing_) Mr. Pawkins! _Enter PAWKINS, L. D. 2 E., he bows on all sides as if the room were full of company. Exit THWAITES, L._ PAWKINS. Why, I'm blessed if there's a soul here!--it's werry inconsistent bowing to two strings of nobody. (_suddenly sees AGATHA, R._) Oh, I beg pardon, miss;--perhaps you may think it's like my impedence, but is the gov'ner in? AGATHA. The--the--governor? PAWKINS. Yes, the gov'ner here; not my gov'ner--no, bless you, he's been under hatches long ago. I want Mr.--I've got his letter somewhere--Mr.--he's something in the fancy soap line. AGATHA. Oh, my papa--Mr. De Windsor. PAWKINS. Him's it! So he's your papa, is he? Well then, I say you do him credit: I say it afore your face, and I wouldn't mind saying it behind your back. AGATHA. (_aside_) A singularly vulgar person! but 'pa does pick up such strange friends in the City.