MRS. HUSHABYE { Don't be so silly. Can't you repent at home?
LADY UTTERWORD. You will have to do as you are told.
THE BURGLAR. It's compounding a felony, you know.
MRS HUSHABYE. This is utterly ridiculous. Are we to be forced to prosecute this man when we don't want to?
THE BURGLAR. Am I to be robbed of my salvation to save you the trouble of spending a day at the sessions? Is that justice? Is it right? Is it fair to me?
MAZZINI [rising and leaning across the table persuasively as if it were a pulpit desk or a shop counter]. Come, come! let me show you how you can turn your very crimes to account. Why not set up as a locksmith? You must know more about locks than most honest men?
THE BURGLAR. That's true, sir. But I couldn't set up as a locksmith under twenty pounds.
RANDALL. Well, you can easily steal twenty pounds. You will find it in the nearest bank.
THE BURGLAR [horrified]. Oh, what a thing for a gentleman to put into the head of a poor criminal scrambling out of the bottomless pit as it were! Oh, shame on you, sir! Oh, God forgive you! [He throws himself into the big chair and covers his face as if in prayer].
LADY UTTERWORD. Really, Randall!