work my sin off my conscience. This has come as a sort of call to me. Let me spend the rest of my life repenting in a cell. I shall have my reward above.
MANGAN [exasperated]. The very burglars can't behave naturally in this house.
HECTOR. My good sir, you must work out your salvation at somebody else's expense. Nobody here is going to charge you.
THE BURGLAR. Oh, you won't charge me, won't you?
HECTOR. No. I'm sorry to be inhospitable; but will you kindly leave the house?
THE BURGLAR. Right. I'll go to the police station and give myself up. [He turns resolutely to the door: but Hector stops him].
HECTOR. } [speaking { Oh, no. You mustn't do that.
RANDALL. } together] { No no. Clear out man, can't you; and don't be a fool.
MRS. HUSHABYE} { Don't be so silly. Can't you repent at home?
LADY UTTERWORD. You will have to do as you are told.
THE BURGLAR. It's compounding a felony, you know.
MRS HUSHABYE. This is utterly ridiculous. Are we to be forced to prosecute this man when we don't want to?
THE BURGLAR. Am I to be robbed of my salvation to save you the trouble of spending a day at the sessions? Is that justice? Is it right? Is it fair to me?
MAZZINI [rising and leaning across the table persuasively as if it were a pulpit desk or a shop counter]. Come, come! let me show you how you can turn your very crimes to account. Why not set up as a locksmith? You must know more about locks than most honest men?
