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I
recognised it last night. I determined to say nothing about it till
I had found the thief. I have found the thief now, and I have heard
her own confession.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Tossing her head.] It is not true.

LORD GORING. You know it is true. Why, thief is written across your
face at this moment.

MRS. CHEVELEY. I will deny the whole affair from beginning to end.
I will say that I have never seen this wretched thing, that it was
never in my possession.

[MRS. CHEVELEY tries to get the bracelet off her arm, but fails.
LORD GORING looks on amused. Her thin fingers tear at the jewel to
no purpose. A curse breaks from her.]

LORD GORING. The drawback of stealing a thing, Mrs. Cheveley, is
that one never knows how wonderful the thing that one steals is. You
can't get that bracelet off, unless you know where the spring is.
And I see you don't know where the spring is. It is rather difficult
to find.

MRS. CHEVELEY. You brute! You coward! [She tries again to unclasp
the bracelet, but fails.]

LORD GORING. Oh! don't use big words. They mean so little.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Again tears at the bracelet in a paroxysm of rage,
with inarticulate sounds. Then stops, and looks at LORD GORING.]
What are you going to do?

LORD GORING. I am going to ring for my servant. He is an admirable
servant. Always comes in the moment one rings for him. When he
comes I will tell him to fetch the police.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Trembling.] The police? What for?

LORD GORING. To-morrow the Berkshires will prosecute you. That is
what the police are for.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Is now in an agony of physical terror. Her face is
distorted. Her mouth awry. A mask has fallen from her. She it, for
the moment, dreadful to look at.] Don't do that. I will do anything
you want. Anything in the world you want.

LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chiltern's letter.

MRS. CHEVELEY. Stop! Stop! Let me have time to think.

LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chiltern's letter.

MRS. CHEVELEY. I have not got it with me. I will give it to you to-
morrow.

LORD GORING. You know you are lying. Give it to me at once. [MRS.
CHEVELEY pulls the letter out, and hands it to him. She is horribly
pale.] This is it?

MRS. CHEVELEY. [In a hoarse voice.] Yes.

LORD GORING. [Takes the letter, examines it, sighs, and burns it
with the lamp.] For so well-dressed a woman, Mrs. Cheveley, you have
moments of admirable common sense. I congratulate you.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Catches sight of LADY CHILTERN'S letter, the cover
of which is just showing from under the blotting-book.] Please get
me a glass of water.

LORD GORING. Certainly. [Goes to the corner of the room and pours
out a glass of water. While his back is turned MRS. CHEVELEY steals
LADY CHILTERN'S letter. When LORD GORING returns the glass she
refuses it with a gesture.]

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