LADY (hysterically). I know who you are; I know all about the scar on your forehead! But I won’t betray you—I won’t, indeed! Here, take my purse!—take my watch! (thrusting the articles into the GENTLEMAN’S hands)—all I have, good Mr. Burkshaw!—but spare my life!
GENTLEMAN. Your life? Mr. Burkshaw? What—what do you mean?
LADY. Mercy! mercy!
GENTLEMAN (seriously). My dear madam! Pray compose yourself! You have evidently fallen into some strange error; in a word, I happen to be—
LADY. Yes, yes! I know who you happen to be! Take my advice and jump out of the train!
GENTLEMAN (astonished). Jump out of the train? Madam, your strange conduct compels me to be serious! In a word, I have the honor to be a Government inspector of prisons!
LADY. Eh? What? You—an inspector of prisons?
GENTLEMAN. Yes, madam (taking off his cap and bowing to LADY).
LADY (eagerly looking at GENTLEMAN’S forehead). And—you haven’t got a scar on your forehead? Oh, sir! if you only knew how delighted I am that you haven’t got a scar on your forehead!