it,
poor lad, though I knew he just longed to give it to me.

GILBEY. Maria: if you keep interrupting with silly questions, I shall go
out of my senses. Heres the boy in gaol and me disgraced for ever; and
all you care to know is what a squiffer is.

DORA. Well, remember it has gold keys. The man wouldnt take a penny less
than 15 pounds for it. It was a presentation one.

GILBEY. [shouting at her] Wheres my son? Whats happened to my son? Will
you tell me that, and stop cackling about your squiffer?

DORA. Oh, aint we impatient! Well, it does you credit, old dear. And you
neednt fuss: theres no disgrace. Bobby behaved like a perfect gentleman.
Besides, it was all my fault. I'll own it: I took too much champagne. I
was not what you might call drunk; but I was bright, and a little beyond
myself; and--I'll confess it--I wanted to shew off before Bobby, because
he was a bit taken by a woman on the stage; and she was pretending to be
game for anything. You see youve brought Bobby up too strict; and when
he gets loose theres no holding him. He does enjoy life more than any
lad I ever met.

GILBEY. Never you mind how hes been brought up: thats my business. Tell
me how hes been brought down: thats yours.

MRS GILBEY. Oh, dont be rude to the lady, Rob.

DORA. I'm coming to it, old dear: dont you be so headstrong. Well, it
was a beautiful moonlight night; and we couldnt get a cab on the nod; so
we started to walk, very jolly, you know: arm in arm, and dancing along,
singing and all that. When we came into Jamaica Square, there was a
young copper on point duty at the corner. I says to Bob: "Dearie boy: is
it a bargain about the squiffer if I make Joe sprint for you?" "Anything
you like, darling," says he: "I love you." I put on my best company
manners and stepped up to the copper. "If you please, sir," says I, "can
you direct me to Carrickmines Square?" I was so genteel, and talked so
sweet, that he fell to it like a bird. "I never heard of any such Square
in these parts," he says. "Then," says I, "what a very silly little
officer you must be!"; and I gave his helmet a chuck behind that knocked
it over his eyes, and did a bunk.

MRS GILBEY. Did a what?

DORA. A bunk. Holy Joe did one too all right: he sprinted faster than he
ever did in college, I bet, the old dear. He got clean off, too. Just as
he was overtaking me half-way down the square, we heard the whistle; and
at the sound of it he drew away like a streak of ligh