BARTHWICK. D' you mean that he--er--intends to put this forward
to-morrow?

SNOW. That'll be his line, sir; but whether he's endeavouring to
shield his wife, or whether [he looks at JACK] there's something in
it, will be for the magistrate to say.

MRS. BARTHWICK. [Haughtily.] Something in what? I don't
understand you. As if my son would bring a man like that into the
house!

BARTHWICK. [From the fireplace, with an effort to be calm.] My son
can speak for himself, no doubt. Well, Jack, what do you say?

MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] What does he say? Why, of course, he
says the whole story's stuff!

JACK. [Embarrassed.] Well, of course, I--of course, I don't know
anything about it.

MRS. BARTHWICK. I should think not, indeed! [To Snow.] The man is
an audacious ruffian!

BARTHWICK. [Suppressing jumps.] But in view of my son's saying
there's nothing in this--this fable--will it be necessary to proceed
against the man under the circumstances?

SNOW. We shall have to charge him with the assault, sir. It would
be as well for your son to come down to the Court. There'll be a