POS. Yes, from this moment she’s at liberty.
Enter PEGGY running, L. U. E.
PEGGY. Where is he? (comes down C.) Where’s Mr. Superintendent? (to RATCLIFFE) Oh, sir, (seeing POSTLETHWAITE) Lor, Master Percy, is that you? (throwing her arms round POSTLETHWAITE, then turning again to RATCLIFFE) Oh, sir, I’ve got such news. (to POSTLETHWAITE) Lor bless’ee, I must have another buss. (flinging her arms round POSTLETHWAITE)
POS. That’ll do, Peggy; I appreciate your affection, but it rumples one’s front. (arranging his shirt)
PEGGY. (to RATCLIFFE) Then, sir—well, and so you must know that. (turning to POSTLETHWAITE again) Lor love’ee. (about to embrace him again. POSTLETHWAITE turns away)
PEGGY. (to RATCLIFFE) Well, sir, Sergeant Jones has just been here, and says he to me—says he—tell my Superintendent, Captain Ratcliffe, says he, that we’ve found the robber, says he.
POS. (triumphantly) And the money too, of course; not that my intense affection for my charming cousin could ever be influenced by a few paltry thousands more or less—no; I love her for herself alone.
PEGGY. It does my old heart good to hear you say that, because they’ve neither found the robber nor the money yet.
POS. Pooh, what a stupid old fool you are. What have they found then?
PEGGY. A hat!