Walpole rises and comes quickly to see whether he is dead.
LOUIS. Not yet, dear. Very nearly, but not yet. I should like to rest my head on your bosom; only it would tire you.
MRS DUBEDAT. No, no, no, darling: how could you tire me? [She lifts him so that he lies on her bosom].
LOUIS. Thats good. Thats real.
MRS DUBEDAT. Dont spare me, dear. Indeed, indeed you will not tire me. Lean on me with all your weight.
LOUIS [with a sudden half return of his normal strength and comfort] Jinny Gwinny: I think I shall recover after all. [Sir Patrick looks significantly at Ridgeon, mutely warning him that this is the end].
MRS DUBEDAT [hopefully] Yes, yes: you shall.
LOUIS. Because I suddenly want to sleep. Just an ordinary sleep.
MRS DUBEDAT [rocking him] Yes, dear. Sleep. [He seems to go to sleep. Walpole makes another movement. She protests]. Sh—sh: please dont disturb him. [His lips move]. What did you say, dear? [In great distress] I cant listen without moving him. [His lips move again; Walpole bends down and listens].
WALPOLE. He wants to know is the newspaper man here.