MRS. JONES. Good morning, sir; good morning, ma'am.
BARTHWICK. [Exchanging glances with his wife.] By the way, Mrs. Jones—I think it is only fair to tell you, a silver cigarette-box —er—is missing.
MRS. JONES. [Looking from one face to the other.] I am very sorry, sir.
BARTHWICK. Yes; you have not seen it, I suppose?
MRS. JONES. [Realising that suspicion is upon her; with an uneasy movement.] Where was it, sir; if you please, sir?
BARTHWICK. [Evasively.] Where did Marlow say? Er—in this room, yes, in this room.
MRS. JONES. No, Sir, I have n't seen it—of course if I 'd seen it I should have noticed it.
BARTHWICK. [Giving hey a rapid glance.] You—you are sure of that?
MRS. JONES. [Impassively.] Yes, Sir. [With a slow nodding of her head.] I have not seen it, and of course I don't know where it is.
[She turns and goes quietly out.]