Justice | Page 4

HUGH MILLER, a prison chaplain
EDWARD CLEMENT, a prison doctor WOODER, a chief warder
MOANEY, convict CLIFTON, convict O'CLEARY, convict RUTH
HONEYWILL, a woman A NUMBER OF BARRISTERS,
SOLICITERS, SPECTATORS, USHERS, REPORTERS, JURYMEN,
WARDERS, AND PRISONERS

TIME: The Present.
ACT I. The office of James and Walter How. Morning. July.
ACT II. Assizes. Afternoon. October.
ACT III. A prison. December. SCENE I. The Governor's office.
SCENE II. A corridor. SCENE III. A cell.
ACT IV. The office of James and Walter How. Morning. March, two
years later.

CAST OF THE FIRST PRODUCTION

AT THE DUKE OF YORK'S THEATRE, FEBRUARY 21, 1910
James How MR. SYDNEY VALENTINE Walter How MR.
CHARLES MAUDE Cokeson MR. EDMUND GWENN Falder MR.
DENNIS EADIE The Office-boy MR. GEORGE HERSEE The
Detective MR. LESLIE CARTER The Cashier MR. C. E. VERNON
The Judge MR. DION BOUCICAULT The Old Advocate MR.
OSCAR ADYE The Young Advocate MR. CHARLES BRYANT The
Prison Governor MR. GRENDON BENTLEY The Prison Chaplain
MR. HUBERT HARBEN The Prison Doctor MR. LEWIS CASSON
Wooder MR. FREDERICK LLOYD Moaney MR. ROBERT
PATEMAN Clipton MR. O. P. HEGGIE O'Cleary MR. WHITFORD
KANE Ruth Honeywill Miss EDYTH OLIVE

ACT I
The scene is the managing clerk's room, at the offices of James and
Walter How, on a July morning. The room is old fashioned, furnished
with well-worn mahogany and leather, and lined with tin boxes and
estate plans. It has three doors. Two of them are close together in the
centre of a wall. One of these two doors leads to the outer office, which
is only divided from the managing clerk's room by a partition of wood
and clear glass; and when the door into this outer office is opened there
can be seen the wide outer door leading out on to the stone stairway of
the building. The other of these two centre doors leads to the junior
clerk's room. The third door is that leading to the partners' room.
The managing clerk, COKESON, is sitting at his table adding up
figures in a pass-book, and murmuring their numbers to himself. He is
a man of sixty, wearing spectacles; rather short, with a bald head, and
an honest, pugdog face. He is dressed in a well-worn black frock-coat
and pepper-and-salt trousers.
COKESON. And five's twelve, and three--fifteen, nineteen,
twenty-three, thirty-two, forty-one-and carry four. [He ticks the page,
and goes on murmuring] Five, seven, twelve, seventeen, twenty-four

and nine, thirty-three, thirteen and carry one.
He again makes a tick. The outer office door is opened, and SWEEDLE,
the office-boy, appears, closing the door behind him. He is a pale youth
of sixteen, with spiky hair.
COKESON. [With grumpy expectation] And carry one.
SWEEDLE. There's a party wants to see Falder, Mr. Cokeson.
COKESON. Five, nine, sixteen, twenty-one, twenty-nine--and carry
two. Send him to Morris's. What name?
SWEEDLE. Honeywill.
COKESON. What's his business?
SWEEDLE. It's a woman.
COKESON. A lady?
SWEEDLE. No, a person.
COKESON. Ask her in. Take this pass-book to Mr. James. [He closes
the pass-book.]
SWEEDLE. [Reopening the door] Will you come in, please?
RUTH HONEYWILL comes in. She is a tall woman, twenty-six years
old, unpretentiously dressed, with black hair and eyes, and an
ivory-white, clear-cut face. She stands very still, having a natural
dignity of pose and gesture.
SWEEDLE goes out into the partners' room with the pass-book.
COKESON. [Looking round at RUTH] The young man's out.
[Suspiciously] State your business, please.
RUTH. [Who speaks in a matter-of-fact voice, and with a slight

West-Country accent] It's a personal matter, sir.
COKESON. We don't allow private callers here. Will you leave a
message?
RUTH. I'd rather see him, please.
She narrows her dark eyes and gives him a honeyed look.
COKESON. [Expanding] It's all against the rules. Suppose I had my
friends here to see me! It'd never do!
RUTH. No, sir.
COKESON. [A little taken aback] Exactly! And here you are wanting
to see a junior clerk!
RUTH. Yes, sir; I must see him.
COKESON. [Turning full round to her with a sort of outraged interest]
But this is a lawyer's office. Go to his private address.
RUTH. He's not there.
COKESON. [Uneasy] Are you related to the party?
RUTH. No, sir.
COKESON. [In real embarrassment] I don't know what to say. It's no
affair of the office.
RUTH. But what am I to do?
COKESON. Dear me! I can't tell you that.
SWEEDLE comes back. He crosses to the outer office and passes
through into it, with a quizzical look at Cokeson, carefully leaving the
door an inch or two open.

COKESON. [Fortified by this look] This won't do, you know, this
won't do at all. Suppose one of the partners came in!
An incoherent knocking and chuckling is heard from the outer door of
the outer office.
SWEEDLE. [Putting his