MRS. S. (with intention) Not with absolute certainty, sir.
POS. No, more should I.
RAT. That’s strange too, considering the length of time you were struggling with him.
POS. Yes, yes. (aside to him) That’ll do—she can’t bear it.
MRS. S. (still with intention) And were I to act upon my present suspicions, however well grounded they may appear, I might be the means of compromising—
RAT. Who, madam?
MRS. S. (looking at him) One perhaps, whose position in society——
RAT. Nay, madam—as the representative of the law, I tell you that it matters not what his social position may be, we must not mince matters.
POS. Certainly not. I’d rather mince him. Fifteen thousand pounds is a lump of money.
RAT. (with pretended astonishment) Fifteen thousand pounds—the unconscionable scoundrel!—one moment (writing in the pocket book)—amount stolen—fifteen thousand pounds; number of robbers——