BARTHWICK. Oh! I don't want to excuse them, but in looking at these matters one must consider——
MRS. BARTHWICK. Perhaps you'll say the man's employer was wrong in dismissing him?
BARTHWICK. Of course not. It's not there that I feel doubt. What
I ask myself is——
JACK. Port, please, Dad.
BARTHWICK. [Circulating the decanter in religious imitation of the rising and setting of the sun.] I ask myself whether we are sufficiently careful in making inquiries about people before we engage them, especially as regards moral conduct.
JACK. Pass the-port, please, Mother!
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Passing it.] My dear boy, are n't you drinking too much?
[JACK fills his glass.]
MARLOW. [Entering.] Detective Snow to see you, Sir.
BARTHWICK. [Uneasily.] Ah! say I'll be with him in a minute.