Lord Goring Really?

Mrs Cheveley (holding out her handsome arm) No; but it looks very well on me as a bracelet, doesn’t it?

Lord Goring Yes; much better than when I saw it last.

Mrs Cheveley When did you see it last?

Lord Goring (calmly) Oh, ten years ago, on Lady Berkshire, from whom you stole it.

Mrs Cheveley (starting) What do you mean?

Lord Goring I mean that you stole that ornament from my cousin, Mary Berkshire,° to whom I gave it when she was married. Suspicion fell on a wretched servant, who was sent away in disgrace. I recognized 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 Tomorrow 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 is, 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.