UNKNOWN. He took away my—my reticule.
BARTHWICK. Your reti——?
UNKNOWN. I don't care about the reticule; it's not that I want—I 'm sure I don't want to make any fuss—[her face is quivering]—but —but—all my money was in it!
BARTHWICK. In what—in what?
UNKNOWN. In my purse, in the reticule. It was a crimson silk purse. Really, I wouldn't have come—I don't want to make any fuss. But I must get my money back—mustn't I?
BARTHWICK. Do you tell me that my son——?
UNKNOWN. Oh! well, you see, he was n't quite I mean he was
[She smiles mesmerically.]
BARTHWICK. I beg your pardon.
UNKNOWN. [Stamping her foot.] Oh! don't you see—tipsy! We had a quarrel.