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
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.
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