BEGGAR. Your own credulity, then.
STRANGER. No, I'm not credulous, and I know I'm right.
BEGGAR. What's the good of that, if no one else does.
STRANGER. Shall I ever get out of this prison? If I do, I'll settle everything.
BEGGAR. The matter's arranged; everything's paid for.
STRANGER. Oh? Who paid, then?
BEGGAR. The Society, I suppose; or the Drunkard's Government.
STRANGER. Then I can go?
BEGGAR. Yes. But there's one thing....
STRANGER. Well, what is it?