ABSTRACT
BIRLING: Have a glass of port - or a little whisky. INSPECTOR: No, thank you, Mr Birling. I’m on duty. {He turns the desk
chair a little away from the desk and sits) BIRLING: You’re new, aren’t you? INSPECTOR: Yes, sir. Only recently transferred. BIRLING: I thought you must be. I was an alderman for years - and Lord
Mayor two years ago - and I’m still on the Bench - so I know the Brumley police officers pretty well - and I thought I’d never seen you before. (He sits L. o f the table)
INSPECTOR: Quite so . BIRLING: Well, what can I do for you? Some trouble about a warrant? INSPECTOR: No, Mr Birling. BIRLING: {after a pause, with a touch o f impatience) Well, what is it then? INSPECTOR: I’d like some information, if you don’t mind, Mr Birling. Two
hours ago a young woman died in the Infirmary. She’d been taken there this afternoon because she’d swallowed a lot of strong disinfectant. Burnt her inside out, of course.
