MRS.JONES.It's been missed; they think it's me.Oh! whatever made you do it, Jem?
JONES.I tell you I was in liquor.I don't want it; what's the good of it to me? If I were to pawn it they'd only nab me.I 'm no thief.I 'm no worse than wot that young Barthwick is; he brought 'ome that purse that I picked up--a lady's purse--'ad it off 'er in a row, kept sayin' 'e 'd scored 'er off.Well, I scored 'im off.
Tight as an owl 'e was! And d' you think anything'll happen to him?
MRS.JONES.[As though speaking to herself.] Oh, Jem! it's the bread out of our mouths!
JONES.Is it then? I'll make it hot for 'em yet.What about that purse? What about young BARTHWICK?
[MRS.JONES comes forward to the table and tries to take the box;JONES prevents her.] What do you want with that? You drop it, Isay!
MRS.JONES.I 'll take it back and tell them all about it.[She attempts to wrest the box from him.]
JONES.Ah, would yer?
[He drops the box, and rushes on her with a snarl.She slips back past the bed.He follows; a chair is overturned.The door is opened; Snow comes in, a detective in plain clothes and bowler hat, with clipped moustaches.JONES drops his arms, MRS.JONES stands by the window gasping; SNOW, advancing swiftly to the table, puts his hand on the silver box.]
SNOW.Doin' a bit o' skylarkin'? Fancy this is what I 'm after.
J.B., the very same.[He gets back to the door, scrutinising the crest and cypher on the box.To MRS.JONES.] I'm a police officer.
Are you Mrs.Jones?
MRS.JONES.Yes, Sir.
SNOW.My instructions are to take you on a charge of stealing this box from J.BARTHWICK, Esquire, M.P., of 6, Rockingham Gate.
Anything you say may be used against you.Well, Missis?
MRS.JONES.[In her quiet voice, still out of breath, her hand upon.her breast.] Of course I did not take it, sir.I never have taken anything that did n't belong to me; and of course I know nothing about it.
SNOW.You were at the house this morning; you did the room in which the box was left; you were alone in the room.I find the box 'ere.
You say you did n't take it?
MRS.JONES.Yes, sir, of course I say I did not take it, because Idid not.
SNOW.Then how does the box come to be here?
MRS.JONES.I would rather not say anything about it.
SNOW.Is this your husband?
MRS.JONES.Yes, sir, this is my husband, sir.
SNOW.Do you wish to say anything before I take her?
[JONES remains silent, with his head bend down.]
Well then, Missis.I 'll just trouble you to come along with me quietly.
MRS.JONES.[Twisting her hands.] Of course I would n't say I had n't taken it if I had--and I did n't take it, indeed I did n't.Of course I know appearances are against me, and I can't tell you what really happened: But my children are at school, and they'll be coming home--and I don't know what they'll do without me.
SNOW.Your 'usband'll see to them, don't you worry.[He takes the woman gently by the arm.]
JONES.You drop it--she's all right! [Sullenly.] I took the thing myself.
SNOW.[Eyeing him] There, there, it does you credit.Come along, Missis.
JONES.[Passionately.] Drop it, I say, you blooming teck.She's my wife; she 's a respectable woman.Take her if you dare!
SNOW.Now, now.What's the good of this? Keep a civil tongue, and it'll be the better for all of us.
[He puts his whistle in his mouth and draws the woman to the door.]
JONES.[With a rush.] Drop her, and put up your 'ands, or I 'll soon make yer.You leave her alone, will yer! Don't I tell yer, Itook the thing myself.
SNOW.[Blowing his whistle.] Drop your hands, or I 'll take you too.Ah, would you?
[JONES, closing, deals him a blow.A Policeman in uniform appears; there is a short struggle and JONES is overpowered.
MRS.JONES raises her hands avid drops her face on them.]
The curtain falls.
