baby? [[General consternation. The Canon startsback in horror. Algernon and Jack pretend to be anxious to shield Cecily andGwendolen from hearing the details of a terrible public scandal.]]Twenty-eight years ago, Prism, you left Lord Bracknell's house, Number 104,Upper Grosvenor Street, in charge of a perambulator that contained a baby ofthe male sex. You never returned. A few weeks later, through the elaborateinvestigations of the Metropolitan police, the perambulator was discovered atmidnight standing by itself in a p.506remote corner of Bayswater. Itcontained the manuscript of a three-volume novel of more than usually revoltingsentimentality. [[Miss Prism starts in involuntary indignation.]] Butthe baby was not there. [[Everyone looks at Miss Prism.]]Prism! Where is that baby? [[A pause.]] Miss Prism. Lady Bracknell, I admit withshame that I do not know. I only wish I did. The plain facts of the case arethese. On the morning of the day you mention, a day that is for ever branded onmy memory, I prepared as usual to take the baby out in its perambulator. I hadalso with me a somewhat old, but capacious hand-bag, in which I had intended toplace the manuscript of a work of fiction that I had written during my fewunoccupied hours. In a moment of mental abstraction, for which I never canforgive myself, I deposited the manuscript in the bassinette, and placed thebaby in the hand-bag.Jack. [[Who has been listeningattentively.]] But where did you deposit the hand-bag?Miss Prism. Do not ask me, Mr. Worthing.Jack. Miss Prism, this is a matter ofno small importance to me. I insist on knowing where you deposited the hand-bagthat contained that infant.Miss Prism. I left it in the cloak-room ofone of the larger railway stations in London.Jack. What railway station?Miss Prism. [[Quite crushed.]]Victoria. The Brighton line. [[Sinks into a chair.]]Jack. I must retire to my room for amoment. Gwendolen, wait here for me.Gwendolen. If you are not too long, I willwait here for you all my life.[Exit Jack in greatexcitement.]Chasuble. What do you think this means,Lady Bracknell?Lady Bracknell. I dare not even suspect, Dr.Chasuble. I need hardly tell you that in families of high position strangecoincidences are not supposed to occur. They are hardly considered the thing.[Noises heard overhead as ifsomeone was throwing trunks about. Everyone looks up.]Cecily. Uncle Jack seems strangelyagitated.Chasuble. Your guardian has a veryemotional nature.Lady Bracknell. This noise is extremelyunpleasant. It sounds as if he p.507was having an argument. I dislikearguments of any kind. They are always vulgar, and often convincing. Chasuble. [[Looking up.]]It has stopped now. [[The noise is redoubled.]]Lady Bracknell. I wish he would arrive at someconclusion.Gwendolen. The suspense is terrible. I hopeit will last.Enter Jack with a hand-bag of black leather in his hand.Jack. [[Rushing over to Miss Prism.]]Is this the hand-bag, Miss Prism? Examine it carefully before you speak. Thehappiness of more than one life depends on your answer.Miss Prism. [[Calmly.]] Itseems to be mine. Yes, here is the injury it received through the upsetting ofa Gower Street omnibus in younger and happier days. Here is the stain on thelining caused by the explosion of a temperance beverage, an incident thatoccurred at Leamington.