BODIE (impressed). I believe you are right, officer.
POLICEMAN. I am right—it’s infallayble. A lady, what with drink and such like misfortunes, may forget all her other refinements, but she never forgets that. At the Yard it’s considered as sure as finger-marks.
BODIE. Strange! I wonder who was the first woman to do it. It couldn’t have been Eve this time, officer.
POLICEMAN (after reflecting). I see your point. And now I want just to have a look at the party unbeknownst to her. Where could I conceal myself?
BODIE. Hide?
POLICEMAN. Conceal myself.
BODIE. That small door opens on to my pantry, where she washes up.
POLICEMAN (peeping in). It will do. Now bring her up.
BODIE. It doesn’t seem fair—I really can’t—
POLICEMAN. War-time, sir.