MISS PRISM.
Do not ask me, Mr. Worthing.
JACK.
Miss Prism, this is a matter of no small importance to me. I insist on knowing where you deposited the hand-bag that contained that infant.
MISS PRISM.
I left it in the cloak-room of one of the larger railway stations in London.
JACK.
What railway station?
MISS PRISM.
[Quite crushed.] Victoria. The Brighton line. [Sinks into a chair.]
JACK.
I must retire to my room for a moment. Gwendolen, wait here for me.
GWENDOLEN.
If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life. [Exit Jack in great excitement.]
CHASUBLE.
What do you think this means, Lady Bracknell?
LADY BRACKNELL.
I dare not even suspect, Dr. Chasuble. I need hardly tell you that in families of high position strange coincidences are not supposed to occur. They are hardly considered the thing.
[Noises heard overhead as if some one was throwing trunks about. Every one looks up.]