re Arthur keeps his bank book - in one of the drawers of that desk.  I might find out by that.  I will find out.  [Opens drawer.]  No, it is some hideous mistake.  [Rises and goes C.]  Some silly scandal!  He loves me!  He loves me!  But why should I not look?  I am his wife, I have a right to look!  [Returns to bureau, takes out book and examines it page by page, smiles and gives a sigh of relief.]  I knew it! there is not a word of truth in this stupid story.  [Puts book back in dranver.  As the does so, starts and takes out another book.]  A second book - private - locked!  [Tries to open it, but fails.  Sees paper knife on bureau, and with it cuts cover from book.  Begins to start at the first page.]  ‘Mrs. Erlynne - £600 - Mrs. Erlynne - £700 - Mrs. Erlynne - £400.’  Oh! it is true!  It is true!  How horrible!  [Throws book on floor.]  [Enter LORD WINDERMERE C.]

LORD WINDERMERE.  Well, dear, has the fan been sent home yet?  [Going R.C.  Sees book.]  Margaret, you have cut open my bank book.  You have no right to do such a thing!

LADY WINDERMERE.  You think it wrong that you are found out, don’t you?

LORD WINDERMERE.  I think it wrong that a wife should spy on her husband.

LADY WINDERMERE.  I did not spy on you.  I never knew of this woman’s existence till half an hour ago.  Some one who pitied me was kind enough to tell me what every one in London knows already - your daily visits to Curzon Street, your mad infatuation, the monstrous sums of money you squander on this infamous woman!  [Crossing L.]

LORD WINDERMERE.  Margaret! don’t talk like that of Mrs. Erlynne, you don’t know how unjust it is!

LADY WINDERMERE.  [Turning to him.]  You are very jealous of Mrs.