Arthur Birling lowered the telephone slowly and looked panic-stricken, at the others.
That was the police. A girl has just died - on her way o the - subsequently swallowing some disinfectant. And a police tester is on his was hither - to ask some - questions...
They were all silent for what seemed like ages in the first place Gerald spoke. Is that supposed to be some kind of a facetiousness? Who was that really, on the phone?
        That was the police and an inspector is coming cycle per second to talk to us.
Mrs Birling collapsed into a near by armchair and Sheila went aggress to comfort her mother.
        May I get a confuse?, Eric quietly asked his father.
                No, you targetnot pay a drink, you stupid boy. Is that all you can think about? Drink! You argon the one that got us all into this mess and you are the one who has to deal with it.
                let thats enough. You cant blame it all on Eric. We were all equally as much to blame. Didnt you listen to the inspector? replied Sheila.
        That was not a bloody(a) inspector. He was a hoax. The inspector is on his way here now. What are we difference to do? The inspector is going to control out what we did, what you did; there will be an inquest.
And my business is going to be ruined.
        Sheila turned to face her father.
Why do you always think about yourself? I cant believe that you devour not learnt anything this evening!
        This is not a time for an argument. What are we going to do? What are we going to say to the inspector when he comes?, cut in Mrs Birling.
        We are going to have to tell him what we all did; we...
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