Gerald: You don't. Neither of us does. So – for god's sake – don't say anything to the inspector. Sheila: About you and this girl? Gerald: Yes. We can keep it from him. Sheila: (laughs rather hysterically) why – you fool – he knows. Of course he knows. And I hate to think how much he knows that we don't know yet. You'll see. You'll see. // she at him almost in triumph. He looks crushed. The doors slowly opens and the inspector appears, looking steadily and searchingly at them.// Inspector: Well? END OF ACT ONE Act two // At rise, and situation are exactly as they were at end of act one. The Inspector remains at the door for a few moments looking at Sheila and Gerald. Then he comes forward, leaving door open behind him.// Inspector: (To Gerald) Well? Sheila: (with hysterical laugh, to Gerald) You see? What did I tell you? Inspector What did you tell him? Gerald (with an effort) inspector, I miss birling ought to be excused any more of this questioning. She'd nothing more to tell you. She's had a long exciting and tiring day – we were celebrating our engagement, you know – and now she's obviously had about as much as she can stand. You heard her. Sheila: He that I'm getting hysterical now. Inspector: And are you? Sheila: probably. Inspector: well, I don't want to keep you here. I've no more questions to ask you. Sheila: no, but you haven't finished asking questions – have you? Inspector: No.
Sheila: But, Mother, don't forget that he showed you a photograph of the girl before that, and you obviously recognized it. Gerald: Did anybody else see it? Mrs Birling: No, he showed it only to me. Gerald: Then, don't you see, there's still no proof it was really the same girl. He might have showed you the photograph of any girl who applied to the committee. And how do we know she was really Eva Smith or Daisy Renton? Birling: Gerald's dead right. He could have used a different photograph each time and we'd be none the wiser. We may all have been recognizing different girls. Gerald: Exactly. Did he ask you to identify a photograph, Eric? Eric: No. he didn't need a photograph by the time he'd got round to me. But obviously it must have been the girl I knew who went to see mother. Gerald: Why must it? Eric: She said she had to help because she wouldn't take any more stolen And the girl I knew had told me that already. Gerald: Even then, that may have been all nonsense. Eric: I don't see much nonsense it when a girl goes and kills herself. You lot may be letting yourselves out nicely, but I can't. Nor can mother. We did her in all right. Birling: (eagerly) Wait a minute, wait a minute. Don't be in such a hurry to put yourself into court. That interview with your mother could have been just as much a put-up job, like all this police inspector business. The whole damned thing can have been a piece of bluff. Eric: (angrily) How can it? The girl's dead, isn't she? Gerald: What girl? There were probably four or five different girls. Eric: That doesn't matter to me. The one I knew is dead. Birling: Is she? How do we know she is? Gerald: That's right. You've got it. How do we know any girl killed herself today? Birling: (looking at them all, triumphantly) Now answer that one. Let's look at it from this fellow's point of view. We're having a little celebration here and feeling rather pleased with ourselves. Now he has to work a trick on us. Well, the first thing he has to do is give us such a