Inspector: ( sternly) I warn you, you're making it worse for yourself. What reason did she give for not taking any more money?

Mrs Birling: (distressed) Eric, I can't believe it. There must be some mistake. You don't know what we've been saying. Birling: (angrily) That's comic, that is, coming from you. You're the one it makes the most difference to. You've confessed to theft, and now he knows all about it, and he can bring it out at the inquest, and then if necessary carry it to court. He can't do anything to your mother and Sheila and me – except perhaps make us look a bit ashamed of ourselves in public – but as for you, he can ruin you. You know. Inspector: (with clam authority) I'll tell you. She went to your mother's committee for help, after she'd done with you. Your mother refused that help. Birling: (angrily) Drop that. There's every excuse for what both your mother and I did – it turned out unfortunately, that's all-- Inspector: (firmly) Yes. ( As Birling looks like interrupting explosively.) I know – he's your son and this is your house – but look at him. He needs a drink now just to see him through.Mrs Birling: (triumphantly) Didn't I tell you? Didn't I say I couldn't imagine a real police inspector talking like that to us? Eric: (cutting in) Yes, and do you remember what you said to Gerald and me after dinner, when you were feeling so pleased with yourself? You told us that a man has to make his own way, look after himself and mind his own business and that we weren't to take any notice of these cranks who tell us that everybody has to look after everybody else as if we were all mixed up together. Do you remember? Yes – and then one of those cranks walked in – the Inspector. (laughs bitterly.) I didn't notice you told him that i t's every man for himself .

Sheila: (with sharp sarcasm) of course not. You were the wonderful fairy prince . You must have adored it, Gerald.He walks straight out, leaving them staring, subdued and wondering. Sheila is still quietly crying. Mrs Birling has collapsed into a chair. Eric is brooding desperately. Birling, the only active one, hears the front door slam, moves hesitatingly towards the door, stops, looks gloomily at the other three, then pours himself out a drink, which he hastily swallows.// Mrs Birling: Well, really, I don't know. I think we've just about come to an end of this wretched business--

Birling : (noticing that his wife has not taken any) Now then, Sybil, you must a take a little tonight . Special occasion, y'know, eh? Mrs Birling: No, of course she didn't. But feeling so worried, when he suddenly turned on me with those questions, I answered more or less as he wanted me to answer. Mrs Birling: (with dignity) Yes. We've done a great deal of useful work in helping deserving cases . Birling: You! You don't seem to care about anything. But I care. I was almost certain for a knighthood in the next Honours List --Gerald: in that case – as I'm rather more – upset – by this business than I probably appear to be – and – well, I'd like to be alone for a while – I'd be glad if you'd let me go. Gerald: Yes. I met a police sergeant I know down the road. I asked him about this Inspector Goole and described the chap carefully to him. He swore there wasn't any Inspector Goole or anybody like him on the force here.